


Green Eyes

by Just_Hiraeth



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Bad Parent Dean Winchester, Bad Parent John Winchester, Castiel's Handprint (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Dean Winchester Tries, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Father-Daughter Relationship, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Lesbian Character, Love, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Parent Derek Morgan, Protective Derek, Slow Burn, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Hiraeth/pseuds/Just_Hiraeth
Summary: The BAU has to work a case. With a very special victim, Dean Winchester...s daughter?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Derek Morgan & Original Female Character(s), Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Penelope Garcia & Derek Morgan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I also have this book posted to Wattpad! So if you see it, don't worry! I'll post a couple of chapters quick since I have 22 chapters up so without further ado, enjoy and let me know if you like it!

The smell of rust rushed into the young teenage girl. A sulphuric aura surrounded her. Arms bound behind her back, her shoulders ached in pain.

Scarlett liquid washed down in streaks. Collecting down her porcelain jawline before dripping to the frigid stone beneath her.

Tears threatened to surpass the lids of her orbs but none had fallen. Trapped like a damn, holding back the sea of emotion waiting to break loose.

A man pranced victoriously around her. His feet following an invisible path. Each step delivered purposefully.

His tantalizing smile embedded itself into her memories. Ripping its way through light-filled dreams. Surrounding her with death and darkness.

His movement halted. A hooked dagger trailed the t-zone of the girl's face. Ever so lightly, the warning made itself known.

The man leans over, the look of pure evil lurked in his eyes. Quickly the switched. Flushing the once normal hazelnut into a charcoal abyss.

"Smile for the camera."


	2. Chapter 1 Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU gets called in.

'Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle your demons will cause your angels to sing.'

August Wilson

The warm hallways buzzed with formally dressed workers. Each having a desperate job. Each so focused on their own task.

Eyes shifted away as he strutted from the elevator. Not holding his stare. His lips never turned. They stayed in a hard line.

Fluently he grabbed the glass door, marching his way to his office through the bullpen. That was until his team stopped him. Not purposefully, it was surprising to hear their jubilant laughter fill the room so early on.

Brown eyes gazed at each of his team members. Most sat at their desks. Some on top, it was quite comical. 

A young man was smiling brightly. Babbling statistics to back up a claim he had made moments earlier. Carob and gingerbread coloured eyes shining.

The next was a largely built man. His eyes were shades darker than the previous. Dark chocolate pools.

An older gentleman was standing casually to the side. His accented chuckle was easy to pick out. He also had brown eyes. A beautiful umber colour.

A woman sat. Her eyes were ironically also brown. A graceful russet. She shook her head in amusement at the men in the room.

Across from her sat her opposite. Dazzling cornflower eyes. The contrast between the two women was like yin and yang.

Lastly, another brown-eyed woman danced around them all elegantly. Her eyes a mesmerizing chestnut.

Each utterly captivating in their own ways.

Finally, they noticed him standing and taking in the scene.

"Hotch!" Multiple members called out.

"Hey, you guys are here early..."

"Yeah Strauss wanted us here by seven, she didn't text you cause, well sir, you're always here before seven." Garcia smiled. The techi was already confused, and all of them had hoped Hotch would have the answers. Apparently not.

"In here now," Strauss called to the team from inside the round room.

She stood as everyone sat down.

"You have a case."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Why all the dramatics then?"

Strauss clicked the remote and a video popped up.

"We received this video not too long ago. While one of our deep web hackers were scavenging. This was sent to a number we are monitoring... "

Before she could start the video Spencer pipped up.

"The deep web covers 99% of the internet, this contains at least 4.5 billion websites that have been indexed by search engines, according to one Dutch researcher. That huge number barely scratches the surface of what's really out there."

Strauss nodded. "This, however, wasn't trying to be hidden. It was sent via text message."

"Who's phone was it?" JJ questioned.

"Here, just watch." The woman clicked play on the videos as a man stepped into the frame.

'He's not afraid to be caught.'

The team realized.

"Hello, Winchester! I've heard you went inactive after Sammy boy took his plunge into the cage. So sad isn't it?" He maliciously laughed.

"Well I can't have you running around living life now, can I? So I acquired a little... Incentive to get you to come to me. You really need to keep better track of your things."

A small girl was yanked on to screen. Blood pooled over her face. Garcia gasped and looked away. Emily and JJ felt sick... This was a child.

"I found little Winchester out and about, alllllll alone, how could I leave such a precious opportunity." He sang

The girl's head snapped up. Her rounded face was a large indicator of her young age. Jade eyes met with the camera. Looking as though she could see the other side. No tears fell. Blood was splattered across her face, matching with her light coloured freckles.

The man grabbed her chin with a gruff yank, turning her face toward him.

"Such a pretty face hmm?" He caressed her cheek. The entire team gasped when she spat on his face. Lips quirking a cocky smile as she did so.

The man lifted her, slamming her onto the ground to kick her. Knocking the air from her lungs.

"That's the problem with you hunters. You don't know when to stop!" He screamed striking her ribs multiple times.

His personality switched. He brushed his suit jacket sighing and clicking his tongue.

"Poor little Winchester Daddy left you all alone to have another family." He fake pouted in pity. His eyes flashed to the camera.

"Now as we move past that little hiccup... Let's get down to business. Meet me where it should have ended... While I wait I'll just enjoy my time with her yeah? I'll take care of her good, don't worry about it." Then the screen went back.

Emotions flew through the room.

Rossi was astonished. This child was paying for something...

Garcia was sobbing, that poor poor girl. All alone with no one.

JJ was subconsciously rubbing her stomach. Thoughts of Henry flooding her mind.

Prentiss was shaken. Imagining what was happening to that girl as they sat right there.

Morgan was pissed. His anger was unmeasured by anything else. This innocent child was so close to a monster.

Hotchner was determined. To find this girl, bring her home.

Reid sat in shock. Who was she? Why wasn't she scared? What was he doing to her? Why?

Each of them exchanged glances. They would find her. They would save her, they weren't going to leave her.

Will they get to her in time?

Why was she targeted?

And most importantly.

What was her name?

The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter - in the eye. 

Charlotte Bronte


	3. Chapter 2 Racing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***HEY WARNING***  
> The story is a bit rough to start but gets better as we go along, I promise.

To be heroic is to be courageous enough to die for something; to be inspirational is to be crazy enough to live a little.

Criss Jami, Venus in Arms

Stunned silence filled the office. No one knowing what to say next.

"Who is she?" Rossi was the first to speak up, his voice strained with unknown emotions.

"That's just it, we don't know. There haven't been any missing child reports that match her description."

"How could nobody be missing a child? That makes no sense." JJ whispered, staring at the screen.

Spencer's eyes narrowed mouthing along to a line that he caught. 

"Hello, Winchester, I've heard you went inactive after Sammy boy took his plunge into the cage. So sad isn't it?" He mumbled. Then repeating it louder to the team. 

"Guys, Winchester as in Sam and Dean Winchester."

"You mean the bat-shit crazy brothers?" Morgan asked eyebrow quirked.

"Think about it, no missing child reports, the use of the last name... this could be the elder brothers child."

"I thought those two died in the helicopter blow out, along with Henriksen and those at the station?" JJ questioned. 

"Yeah, but they'd been presumed dead beforehand." Hotch intervened nodding to Spencer's theory. 

"But weren't the Winchester brothers profiled as highly co-dependent thrill seekers? A child would surely get in the way of their agenda. Wouldn't they have tried to get rid of her as soon as possible?" Rossi questioned.

"Didn't the unsub say he found her alone. He also said that Sam took 'the plunge into the cage' that could mean death. Dean might have freaked after Sam died, and Jane Doe would have run. She knew she wasn't safe anymore." Derek added in. 

"That still doesn't explain why they kept her in the first place." Prentiss wanted to keep everyone on task. 

"Dean might have gotten attached or knew she'd be a valuable asset when she got older." Reid rationalized. 

"And by being valuable you mean-" Garcia cut herself off at the thought. 

"There's another thing that's bothering me, baby girl rewind to when JD spat on our unsub." Garcia followed her orders.

"That's the problem with you hunters. You don't know when to stop." 

"There." Morgan pointed and then turned back to his teammates. 

"Hunter, he refers to her as a hunter." 

The team was taken aback by the term. 

"Hunter? What could that mean?" Prentiss questioned the rest of her co-workers. 

"The word hunter has many different definitions, you think of it traditionally 'a person or animal that hunts.' But it could also mean a person searching for something."

"So she could have been looking for him?" JJ asked Reid.

"Or her father's serial killing tenancies caught up to her, the unsub could be lookin for revenge," Morgan added. 

'What if Dean doesn't come out of hiding..." Garcia trailed. 

"Let's not wait and find out, wheels up in thirty," Hotch announced.

"Wait, Sir, where are we going?" 

"Lawrence, Kansas." 

'We are born with our father's names. We are not responsible for their failures. We are responsible for what they made us believe in. That is our only obligation. And it is even then a choice which we may sometimes be wise to ignore.' 

Warren Eyster


	4. Chapter 3 Names

The room was empty, cold and soundless. The only noise was the subtle drip of her blood hitting the cement below, pain shot through her ribs as she watched the man flounce around her. 

"Daddy will be on his way soon." He sang flicking around a knife. 

"Were you this crazy in your other life? Or am I just lucky enough to see the after picture?" She quipped, her chapped lips cracking as she flashed a false smile. 

His eyes narrowed at her. "You think you're so funny, but we'll see who's laughing when I rip your father's intestines out and feed them to you." 

"Now as interesting as it'd be to see you try, I don't think that'd work well in your favor, besides your plan has a flaw."

He looks to the girl, confusion on his features.

"What? What did I miss?"

"My father," she spat the word out like venom, "Isn't coming. So you're shit outta luck." 

"We'll see Belle, won't we?"


	5. Chapter 4 Starting

Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; suddenly you are doing the impossible.

-Francis of Assis

The team landed in a small airport right near Lawrence, driving in their black SUV's as they rode to the nearest police station. Usually, they'd be working out of headquarters for this but Strauss and Hotch agreed that the likely scenario is that 'where it should have ended' is in the Winchester's hometown. That and Garcia was able to ping a signal off of a tower in the city but was unable to get any more information.

Reid focused on the video again as he re-watched it. Flinching at his hits, his angry voice. This child was in so much pain. Why didn't she show fear? There was no evidence of tears, only anger. 

"She doesn't even cry." He noted, JJ and Morgan who was in the front glanced at him.

"Yeah, I know Spence."

"She's used to pain, this probably is a normal occurrence." Morgan spat angrily, wanting nothing more to catch both of the monsters that plagued the little girl's life.

They rode in silence until they reached the station. The vehicles parked in the minuscule parking lot. The local sheriff stepped out greeting them.

Hotch extended his hand starting introductions.

"Hello, I'm SSA Agent Hotchner this is SSA Jareau, SSA Rossi, SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss, and Dr. Reid."

The team shook hands, aside from Spencer who just waved from his spot.

"Yeah, I'm Sheriff Olson. Now we have space for your team to set up, although it may not be fancy FBI grade, It's what we got. I have everyone gathered for a debriefing."

The elder man leads the way into the small station, a few police officers were scattered around waiting. All eyes flashed to the team. Distastefully glaring at the suits.

"Alright, this is the FBI agents from the BAU. They're gonna talk to us bout a child abduction they believe happened here."

A man stood up, dressed in police attire he addressed the agents before any of them could speak.

"We haven't had any amber alerts nor has an abduction been called in." He stated, looking at the team.

"Yes, but we received a video that confirms a child in the area was abducted and brought to a secondary location near here. " Hotch informed them.

"What child?"

The team stopped before Hotch nodded and showed the video eyes adverted the form of the girl on the monitor. A heavy pause fell over the room, no one having the stomach to speak.

"Who is she?" A female detective asked, her face slightly pale.

"That's the thing, we don't know," Rossi said before nodding to Morgan.

"Winchester is her supposed last name, she is most likely related to the Winchester brothers. We don't have a name at the moment so she'll be referred to as Jane. We know that the man holding her is lookin for revenge, and he is somewhere in this state with her."

Aaron stopped him stepping forward, "You will all be given pictures of her, look around ask your returners if they've heard anything. It is most likely that someone knows something. We just have to find them." He gave directions before the team set up in a large room.

"How are we even going to start this?" JJ asked, looking to the unit chief.

"Morgan, Reid, you two will go to the Winchester's childhood home, talk to Garcia, see if she can find any friends of John Winchester. JJ you and I are going to set up a press conference, get her photo out there and send a message to her capture, his message has been received, although it's not who he wants it to be. Rossi and Prentiss stay here and help coordinate patrols, keep them on task."

Everyone hurried off to do their given task, each holding their promise and determination.

"She made broken look beautiful  
and strong look invincible.  
She walked with the Universe  
on her shoulders and made it  
look like a pair of wings."

-Ariana Dancu


	6. Chapter 5 Anger

Belle shifted against the metal chair. Feeling the coldness of the bars dig into her back. The heat radiated from her skin, nausea coming in waves as she fought the looming comfort of sleep. Her body heaved sickly, sweat mixing with the sticky dried crimson staining her body. Shivers reaped her body violently, weakening her so much she could barely lift her head, but still no tears, not a single drop left her lid. A deadly tango of life and death took place, each move, every dip, determining what would be her fate. 

He pranced around her victoriously. His eyes boring into her mind, scarring her more than the wounds that littered her skin would. His sickening smile, the curl of his brow. Every detail ingrained in her, living in her nightmares evermore. 

"Sweet little girl, you don't know how much pleasure this brings me, watching you sit there. Helplessly and completely under my power." His voice sang a dreadful melody. 

"Wow, doesn't that make a girl feel special." She spat out, unable to mask her quick wit.

His face contorted, a hand sprung out and struck her jaw. 

"Hush now. You must survive until Daddy saves you." He hums, caressing the spot that was turning a vibrant purple. 

"Look, I get it. Revenge, hell ain't a walk in the park, you saviour wasn't all he was cracked up to be. I feel for ya man, truly, but if this is gonna work? You need to realize he ain't coming." 

"I just don't believe you, and if it's true then, Winchester, I will skin you." He says dragging out the word. 

"Aren't you just a kinky sonnavabitch? Sorry to disappoint, but I draw the line at necrophilia." 

Before the man can respond, the small telly that had been playing switched to a breaking news channel. A picture of him plastered to it, along with 'Amber Alert' flashing on the screen followed by her picture. 

He sprang over, turning the volume up so he could hear.

"-In that the FBI has called for an Amber alert over a Jane Doe, who is approximately fifteen and was last seen with this male. We are live with the leading agents now, Karen, how is it looking?"

To professionally dressed agents stood speaking into the unnecessary amount of mics. 

"We have a message for the man who has taken her, if you cooperate we will be able to aid you in your search for Dean Winchester. You must follow these steps first call the FBI hotline, talk to us. Ms. Winchester, if you hear us, we will find you, hang in there." The man explained carefully. It seemed Adramalech grew angrier by the second. The female agent took questions and he lashed out, breaking chairs and throwing a table. Then his head snapped to Belle.

"Get your pretty face on, you are the star of my next video."


	7. Chapter 6 A Psychic

"I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it anyway except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance."   
― Beryl Markham 

As the team busied themselves, Reid and Morgan found the Winchester's childhood home. A large tree hung outside the building. 

"If you look there, the wood is different, must have remodeled it after the fire," Morgan told his partner, nodding to the second floor of the house. 

"Well, let's see if the tenants know have seen the boys." 

The duo rushes forward, knocking on the door and awaiting an answer. A young teen opened it, looking around the same age as Jane Doe. 

"Hello, we're looking for Jenny Richardson?"

They hold out their badges.

"Mom!" She yells, not allowing the two agents inside, she stared at them judgmentally. 

"What Sari?" Said a woman coming in, whom they assumed was Jenny. 

"Ms. Richardson?" Morgan asked.

"Yes? How can I help you?" Jenny pushed the teen aside taking her place.

"We're from the FBI, we'd like to ask you a few questions, may we come in?"

Soon they were seated in the living room, each holding a glass of lemonade as Jenny awaited their questions. 

"Do you know of Sam and Dean Winchester ma'am?" Morgan tilted his head slightly. 

A flash of recognition showed on her face as Reid laid out their mug shots. 

"Urm, yes. This is their childhood home..." She trailed off her eyebrows furrowing. "I thought they'd died." 

"They've been assumed dead before ma'am... when was the last time you saw them?"

She paused in thought, "About um, eight... maybe nine years ago?" 

"What were they doing here?" 

That's when Jenny stiffened, her hand playing with the sleeve. 

"They just wanted to see how it was doing... passing through." Came the reply.

Reid gave Morgan a look, it was obvious she was holding something back, but that wasn't important. Finding the little girl.

"When they came, did they happen to have a little girl with them? Aproxamitly seven, bright green eyes?"

"Belle? Is she okay?"

A name, both of the agents tensed.

"Belle?" Morgan breathed. 

"Yeah, she's Dean's daughter. Um, she came along with them, bright young thing... is she okay?"

"I'm afraid she was abducted."

"What?!" 

Jenny was speechless she sat there her mouth agape slightly. 

"Do you know if anyone wanted to hurt Belle?" Reid asked.

"I didn't know her long, she passed through so long ago, I wouldn't know but Missouri Moseley would. "

"Missouri Moseley?"

"Yeah, she's a friend of the boys, she's a local psychic."

They bid the woman goodbye and made their way to the SUV Morgan paused and then called Garcia.

"Oracle of Quantico. Speak if you deign to hear the truth."

"Hey, baby girl you ready to work some magic?" He flirts. 

"Oh my chocolate god, I can work all kinds of magic."

That resulted in a heart filled laugh from Morgan.

"I bet you could, can you find me, Missouri Moseley?" 

"I'm insulted, okay searching now." There was a pause. "Check your phone my dear crime fighter."

"Thanks, Dollface."

"Worship me later!" Garcia sang and ended the call. 

Meanwhile, Spencer was telling Hotch they were following a lead. 

"We good pretty boy?" Morgan asks, getting into the driver's seat as they head off into the direction of the psychic. 

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine."

"Now I know you ain't lying to me. What's up?"

Spencer frowned, looking at his lap, a frown on his face. 

"This case... when it's over. If we find her, do you have any idea how hard her life will be? She's grown up with a serial killing family. She'll pay for this, for the rest of her life." Tears burned at Spencer's eyes, not falling. He didn't know why this hit home so much for him, but his heart ached. 

"Whoa, whoa. There is no if. We will find her. I promise you that. Also, yeah this is one of those cases that will stick with us, but." Morgan stopped, tearing his eyes from the road. "I think this is going to end well. I don't know why it's just a gut feeling. Things are gonna be different."

"Thanks."

Soon enough they arrived at the address, it was cliche, most definitely a psychic's place. 

As they clambered out and moved to go knock the door opened to a warm woman. She looked at them and looked around them before smiling, a soft southern drawl coming out of her mouth. 

"Agents, come on in."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, turning to Reid who gave him an awkward tight-lipped expression before following. The elder man huffed a laugh and walked in. 

"You know fifty-seven per cent of Americans believe in ESP, most under the age of sixty-five but still quite a staggering percentage," Reid informed Morgan. 

"Well, I'm part of the forty-three per cent. "

"Of course you are, Agent Morgan, Chicago boy thing huh?" Missouri peeped, handing him a cup of coffee. 

"How did you?" He was cut off as she began.

"You're here about Belle, aren't you?"

Now, this lady was suspicious, Morgan was forming theories in his head. 

"Boy I did not hurt a hair on that girl's head, try and accuse me of it and I'll whack you with a spoon." The woman snapped.

"I didn't!" He said defensively, raising his voice slightly. 

"You were thinkin' about it." 

Spencer cracked a smile, laughing lightly at the look of disbelief on the agents face. 

"Heh, Ma'am, what do you know about Belle?" The younger man asked, sitting on the sofa. 

"Belle, she was a good kid. Met her idiot of a father when she was seven, her mother passed away and the girl managed to track him down."

A look was shared. "So you know a lot about her childhood?" Spencer said in an excited manner. 

"Yes, I saw her not too long ago, maybe a year ago. We got to talking, she's an amazing kid."

"Can you tell us about her? Why did she come in contact?"

Missouri sighed. "Settle in, it's a bit long." 

*9 years ago, Lawrence Kansas, with the Winchesters.* 

A young girl watched as her father and uncle argued in front of the Impala. 

"Come on kiddo!" Dean called to her, she sighed, placing her book to the side and exited the car. 

She was shorter and adorable. She had been dressed in a white shirt and jeans, matched with small black boots and a leather jacket. Her long obsidian hair was swept into a ponytail, freckles dotting her cheeks. The most striking feature was her candy apple green eyes, which she, of course, had gotten from her father. 

They walked to a house that had flashing letters and looked quite homey. 

A round woman was ushering a man out, a smile present on her face. 

" All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." The man thanks her and she closes the front door behind him.

"Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener." She informed the three that watched her. 

"Why didn't you tell him?" Her Dad queries. 

" People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." Missouri stated. 

"Well? Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day." Belle watched and Dean picked her up, placing her small body on his hip as they follow her into the sitting room. 

"Well, lemme look at ya."She laughs."Oh, you boys grew up handsome." She points a finger at Dean."And you were one goofy-lookin' kid, too." Then her attention moved to the child in said man's arms. 

"You must be Belle, it's nice to meet you, you live up to your name." Missouri smiled at the blush that covered her face, then she buried she eyes in the crook of Dean's neck. 

Dean glares at her while Sam smirks. 

"Sam."She grabs his hand.

"Oh, honey...I'm sorry about your girlfriend." She continued ignoring the boy's shock. "And your father –- he's missin'?"

*Present Day, Lawrence Kansas, with Spencer and Derek.*

"They came because John Winchester was missing?" Reid asked, leaning forward. 

"Yes, they found him, but he died soon after."

"Wow..." Reid trailed. 

"Those boys have had a hard life." 

"They're suspected of killing dozens of people," Morgan informed her.

"I'm not defending them by any means." She answered.

"You said Belle was here a year ago?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

*One year ago, Lawrence Kansas, With Missouri Moseley*

Missouri heard the roaring of the motorcycle, knowing who it was immediately. 

She made her way to the door, looking out at not one but two people on the contraption. 

One was Belle, her demeaning look obvious, freckles even more prominent in the light. 

The second, she didn't know.

She was older than Belle, her cinnamon skin soaked up the sun, blue eyes flashed out as if staring at your soul, strands of hair curled tightly. 

They made their way to the door, in unnatural sync, the unknown girl looked like she was ready to jump at anyone that was going to harm Belle, and Belle just looked tired. 

It wasn't just an 'I haven't slept because I was on my phone all night' tired. It was a mature tired. Aging her young complexion and draining the light in her face. 

Missouri opened the door before they reached it smiling when she saw Belle before her. 

"Missouri." Came the delighted greeting. 

"Oh, dear Belle, come inside! Your friend too, I've been expecting you."

"I bet you have, this is Jaibrian."

Jaibrian nodded awkwardly to the psychic. 

They soon were sat on the couch. 

"Look, Missouri, I need to know. Is there such thing as-"

*Present Day, Lawrence Kansas, with Spencer and Derek*

"Such a thing as what?" Morgan asked when the woman cut herself off. 

"That isn't important. You boys are gonna get a call on your self-phone."

Reid went to insist on the question but was interrupted by his phone.

"Reid? Yeah, we're on our way." 

"What's going on?" Morgan asked. 

"We got another video, addressed to us this time. 

"Us?"

"Yeah, Hotch wants us back now."

They moved to get up, pulling on discarded jackets.

"Boys? You get that girl back safe. You hear?" She told them sternly. 

"We will." 

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed."   
― Albert Einstien


	8. Chapter 7 Free

Let me tell you something about full moons: kids don't care about full moons. They'll play in a full moon, no worries at all. They only get scared of magic or werewolves from stupid adults and their stupid adult stories

-Neil deGrasse Tyson 

Drip... Drip... Drip.

It was the only thing that kept her alert.

Drip

The only thing that reassured her she was alive. 

Drip

A reminder that time had not halted. 

Drip

The truth that she was still trapped in this place.

Drip

In darkness

Drip

So close to death.

Drip

A fraction from eternal bliss.

Drip

A place built on lies.

Drip

Yet a place of no pain.

Drip

Happiness.

Drip

Hope.

Drip

A gasp left her mouth, her eyes shooting open as a frigid substance was dumped on her. Mixing sweat and blood with water in a puddle beneath her feet. 

"Wake up my dear one, It's time for your shoot." He sang, lips brushing her ear.

Her eyes traveled around the room to land on the light, a slow blinking red dot. 

"Hello, Agents." The demon said placing a hand on her shoulder. 

*Present Day, Lawrence Kansas Police Department, with BAU Team*

Morgan and Reid rushed into the room, everyone looked solemnly at Garcia who sat on a screen, ready to address them. 

"Garcia? We are all here and ready, play the video." Hotch commanded, sitting down at the table and signaling for his team to do the same. 

"Yes, sir." She answered clicking her keyboard and pulling up the dreaded file, silently tapping her spacebar to commence the recording. 

The same man stood above her, his hands clasped around her shoulders. The young girl was soaked, her entire body shivering against the air. 

"Hello, Agents, my name is Adramalech," He greeted maliciously, pausing as if they greeted him back. 

"Well, let's get down to business, yes? Humans like you have no understanding of what is happening here. I do not need help from meat suits. Understood? My dear friend here." His hand brushed the cheek of the girl. "Will not be leaving this prison alive, she must pay for what she interfered with, her and her father." He spat the words out viciously. 

"Just to show you what will happen if you... continue this little... game of yours."

A sharp and serrated knife slipped from his sleeve falling into his hand. 

*GORE WARNING*

"Look at the camera dear Winchester, let them see your soul drain from your eyes."

She followed his orders, her face lifted to meet them, though nothing about her looked alive, she looked desperate and angry. 

The man picked up a blowtorch, heating the blade to a vibrant glow, he watched it for a millisecond, then plunged it into her side.

She screams out in pain, her voice going raw towards the end, her jaw clenched and she fought the tears from falling down her face. He repeated his actions several times before slashing down her shirt, cutting a line into the middle of her chest. 

"Tut tut little girl, let me see those tears." He cooed.

"No!" She howled against the pain, her body convulsing. 

"Maybe a more notable scar then hmm?"

He slides the heated blade down from the area right below her ear and followed the muscle down to the dip before her chest. The smell of blood and burning flesh filled her nostrils. In response she dry heaves, tears escaping their prison, like a floodgate opening. All her emotions all her anger flowed from her. The fiery pain mixing with the chilling fear and suffocating sadness. All before her. 

"Good Hunter." He whispered, kissing her forehead as she stared into nothing, not moving. Not blinking. 

He turns back to the camera his hands bathed in the blood of the girl. He lets out an appreciative hum and licks the sticky substance from his fingers. 

"Now agents, don't interfere again."

He leaves and the recording still captures everything. 

*GORE OVER, all that happened was Adramalech torchers Belle and leaves*

Pale faces were seen around the room, tears had escaped most of the occupants, but before anyone could discuss it they saw Belle move, and then she starts laughing, hysterically. 

"Is this what you wanted?!" She screams, her eyes trained on the ceiling. 

Then she sits and stares, trying to force herself to calm down, stay out of shock. 

I drink too much when the rain falls down 

"What is she doing?" Morgan asked quietly. 

Hard to say no to that whiskey drown 

And when I sleep I just hear your voice 

Why did you choose me when you had no choice? 

"She's singing, it helps with shock." Spencer tilted his head, paying attention to the lyrics.

And I will love you, bluebird 

In the dusk when the sun goes down

And I will love you, bluebird 

In the morning when the stars all drown

And I will love you, bluebird

Every hour of every day

I will love you, bluebird 

"It's a love song." JJ realized.

Till we all fade away 

And I feel cold in my warmest clothing

Hard to say no to that old self-loathing

And when I dream it is just your hands 

Why did you let go? Why can't I understand you? 

And I will love you, bluebird

In the dusk when the sun goes down

And I will love you, bluebird 

In the morning when the stars all drown

And I will love you, bluebird 

Every hour of every day 

I will love you, bluebird 

Till we all fade away

It all went wrong just when I got it right

Hard to let go, I still pray every night

Wonder if your hurt, wonder if they bleed you

I wasn't lying when I told you I need you

And I will love you, bluebird 

In the dusk when the sun goes down 

And I will love you, bluebird

In the morning when the stars all drown 

Oh, and I will love you, bluebird 

Every second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year

I still love you bluebird 

So why are you not here? 

Bluebird, bluebird singing in the tree spread your wings and come home to me Bluebird Bluebird

"Wow." Prentiss had a tear fall down her cheek.

"She's retreating into her mind." Rossi recognized the signs, as he turned towards Hotch.

"Let's hope we get to her before she falls to deep." Hotch snapped. 

*1 year earlier, Outside of Lawrence, With Belle in her memories*

A girl around fourteen years old groaned, tightening her black leather jacket around her arms, sighing as she waited. Her hair was tied up in a bun, lips painted a shocking red.

"C'mon Rian, we haven't got all day." Her gruff voice called to the older teen.

"That is not my name." Came the reply, soft and gentle, yet commanding.

"Well, Jaibrian is a mouthful, now are you gonna get on, or what?"

Belle turned her head to see what the girl was doing.

She had wild curls spreading out, framing her heart-shaped face. Plump lips were pulled into a disapproving scowl, cerulean eyes contrasting her cinnamon complexion.

"That seems dangerous, I can just fly to the destination. I do not see why I must-"

"Because I am not letting you out of my sight until we get to the bottom of this."

"I see nothing to get to the bottom of," Jaibrian argued, although she did make her way over to the vehicle.

"You can't expect me to believe you are an Angel of the lord. Sorry, I ain't that stupid."

Belle handed the passenger a bright red helmet.

"I don't need this." The being said, glaring at it.

"C'mon man, just get on, I wanna get there before nightfall." She ushered her to put on the helmet, and when she does she starts instructing the 'Angel' on what to do.

"Wrap your arms around my waist," The black-haired hunter apprised.

That caused the other's face to heat up.

"Why?"

The hunter groaned, exasperated.

"Do you want to fall off?"

"No." came her reply.

"That's how you hold on."

When she didn't get an answer she opened her mouth to continue but stopped when two delicate arms wrapped around her torso.

Belle froze, her breath caught in her throat, warmth spreading through her body.

"Okay, let's go." The words came shakily, her nerves feeling as though they were on fire.

She started the roaring machine up, causing her other rider to grip her hips tightly.

A laugh broke out of the driver's mouth and she sped off, out of the motel and towards their direction.

Every now and then she would look back to see Rian, she could see the being become more and more comfortable, her eyes wide.

"It feels like flying." She stated in wonder, her curls flowing as they battled the wind.

"It's free," Belle stated, humming in content. 

"Yeah, free." 

Belle suddenly started laughing. 

"What?" Jaibrian asked, staring at the mortal. 

"Your name." 

"Yes?"

The radio sang out with an old-fashioned tune, The Beatles. 

"I read it before, the song... it reminded me of what it meant." Came the angel's mysterious answer. 

Late at night when the wind is still  
I'll come flying through your door,  
And you'll know what love is for.  
I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird  
I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird  
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird,  
I'm a bluebird  
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Rian paused, looking at her charge in confusion. 

"What does it mean on earth. 

A joyous laugh left the driver.

"It means bluebird."

Touch your lips with a magic kiss

And you'll be a bluebird too,  
And you'll know what love can do.

Freedom is the open window through which pours the sunlight of the human spirit and human dignity

-Herbert Hoover


	9. Chapter 8 True Identities

Who are you?"  
"No one of consequence."  
"I must know."  
"Get used to disappointment."   
― William Goldman 

*Three days later*

The team buzzed in the conference room, Spencer was writing phrases down on the whiteboard and Garcia was talking to her crime fighters. 

"I can't triangulate the signal at all, but I think I find our Jane Doe's identity."

Morgan sighed, "Yeah, Belle Winchester." 

"No like, before the Winchester last name."

That caught everyone's attention. 

"Who is she, Garcia?" Hotch questioned. 

"Okay, so I dated back around fifteen to sixteen years ago for sweet baby girls names Belle without a father on the birth certificate."

"And?" Rossi ushered. 

"Apparently there is a lot of unhappy baby mamas so I found about two hundred, so I cross-checked it with the death certificate of the mothers that had given birth to all our Belle's and cut it down to about sixty, after that, I added the supposed year of when Mama would have died and that comes down to about six."

Everyone was getting antsy at the dragged out story. "What happened after that Baby girl?" 

"Haha, that is when I kick in my amazing tech goddess magic, so I also put in missing child reports from CPS and viola! Lila Apollyon gave birth to a beautiful Belle Apollyon on October 31st 2002, her mother died, was murdered actually when poor Belle was four. She stayed to give her statement but then disappeared."

Morgan nodded along with her, "That means Missouri was telling the truth." He informs before turning to the phone. 

"Thanks, Baby girl."

"Good day my furry crime fighters." She bid her farewells and ended the call. 

Now it was time for everyone to discuss the facts of the case, each of them turned towards each other. 

"So a four-year-old girl who suffered the loss of her mother decided she would find her father with no adult help?" Rossi asked. 

"So she has above average intelligence." Prentiss offered. 

"Or she knew about the dangers her mother was in in the first place, she could have been trained for that occurrence." JJ countered. 

Off to the side, their residential genius starred at a book, reading through and comparing it, furrowing his eyebrows before turning to them. 

"Guys! I got it." Reid shouted, catching their attention. 

"Have what, Pretty Boy?" 

He wildly waved to the scribbles on the board. 

"His act, our unsubs' fantasy. I've figured it out."

Hotch just stared at him telling him to continue. 

"Okay so when he introduced himself what name did he use?" Spencer ushered, 

"Oh," Rossi gasped slightly before answering, "Adramalech."

Morgan looked confused, "Adramalech?" he echoed. 

"He's s a Great Chancellor of the underworld and President of the HIgh Council of Devils."

"Meatsuits and humans" Prentiss realized, "that's what he called us as if he wasn't also human."

"He thinks he's a demon?" JJ asked. 

"Then why is he trying to kill Belle? Does he think she isn't human either? Maybe he sees her as a biblical figure." JJ suggested.

"Maybe, but think back to the first video. He called her a hunter. What if he thinks her the Winchester brothers kill 'non-human's creatures." Reid added into the discussion.

Hotch nodded along slightly. "So his aim will have to do with the Catholic or Christian religion. Are there any areas that have an outstanding background of biblical properties?" He asked.   
  
Next thing the team knew they were calling Garcia for more information on the land.

"So I found something interesting," Garcia informed them after a few minutes of her typing away.

"Lay it on us, Penny." Emily urged, looking up from the manila folder that was layed before her.

"Alright, do you guys remember all the weird weatherly things that happened two months ago? Y'know the random burst of snow in places snow shouldn't be... And that huge storm in Detroit?"

"C'mon Baby girl, get to your point."

"Okay. So around that time, people claimed that it was signs that the apocalypse was happening."

Reid nodded his head, "I read about that."

"Well, I did some digging and apparently a huge battle between Lucifer and Michael was supposedly happening here in Lawrence, Kansas."

A loud sigh emitted from Rossie's lips. Before Garcia continued.

"Alright, so I decided to cross check that with biblical references and I found it. The Stull Cemetery has gained an ominous reputation due to urban legends involving Satan, the occult, and a purported "gateway to Hell. The rumours about the cemetery were popularized by a newspaper which claimed that the Devil appeared in Stull twice a year: once on Halloween, and once on the spring equinox. People soon said that the cemetery was the location of one of the seven gates of hell and that the nearby Evangelical Emmanuel Church ruin was "possessed" by the Devil. However, most academics, historians, and local residents are in agreement that the legend has no basis in historical fact and was created and spread by students."

"So this Stull Cemetery is supposedly a gate to hell." Morgan deadpanned.

"Yep."

"Is there anything else Garcia?" Hotch questioned.

"Well, if I were a demon and someone stopped my overlord from returning to earth to reek havoc well, I'd be mad to sir." Came her witty reply. 

As the call dropped out everyone sat for a second, wondering if this was it, were they really going to find her, bring her home?

"Let's go to Stull Cemetary then," Hotch said as the team stood, grabbing their gear and making there way to the SUVs calling to the sheriff as they got a team together. 

They sat still in the car, Morgan white-knuckled at the steering wheel, exhilaration pulsing through him as his foot twitched over the gas. He glanced at the quiet agent that sat next to him. 

"We'll find her."

Reid's eyes flashed to his, smiling slightly. 

"I know." 

Unlike a drop of water which loses its identity when it joins the ocean, man does not lose his being in the society in which he lives. Man's life is independent. He is born not for the development of the society alone, but for the development of his self.


	10. Chapter 9 Saviours

We are all connected to everyone and everything in the universe.  
Therefore, everything one does as an individual affects the whole.  
All thoughts, words, images, prayers, blessings,  
and deeds are listened to by all that is.  
\- Serge Kahili King

"Fan out, keep close, JJ with me, Rossi and Prentiss, and Morgan and Reid. Cover as much ground as we can and do not engage if we have no backup, Go!" Hotch ordered as their heels hit the dirt. Each spread off, gun held into resilience spanning out to look for the lost child. 

As they searched the empty tombs and ground Reid suddenly called over Morgan. 

"Look, it's a house?" He said questioning the tiny building.

It stood as if it hadn't been lived in for decades. The white paint had long peeled off leaving a weathered look behind.

"Huh, promising," Morgan grumbled. "I feel like I'm in a horror movie." He rolled his eyes before talking into his earpiece. 

"Hey, Reid and I are gonna check out a house, stay on standby." 

"Roger." 

Derek jerked his arm and had Reid go behind him as they approached the door of the shack. 

"FBI open up!"

The door shuddered violently against the rattles of his fist, they waited a few more seconds before knocking again. 

"This is the FBI open the door or we will use force." When the boys received the same silence Morgan raised his foot to the center of the door and kicked it to the ground, dust flying up in its path. 

Guns raised and flashlights on they made their way through the house. 

"Clear." Reid heard as he checked the rooms, nodding as he sounded off the same. 

"Maybe this isn't-" 

His voice was cut off when a loud cough turning into a painful cry was heard from below their feet. 

Immediately leaping in action Morgan scanned the floor and walls for any door that could be hidden. Whilst Spencer spoke into his mic. 

"We have located a person, looking to see if it's our subject or not."

"Proceed with caution." Came his boss' reply. 

"Copy." He nodded to his partner as they scanned what has used to be the living room.

"Morgan." He called as he found a hidden latch beneath the sofa. Together they moved it aside and opened the unlocked hatch. 

"I'll go first," Derek said, moving down the small ladder that leads into the darkness the other man on his heels. 

As their eyes readjusted to their environment Spencer saw a figure hidden in the room. 

"FBI put your hand where we can see them."

Another strangled cough was heard and their request wasn't followed. Morgan flicked his flashlight around until they could distinguish what the figure was, it was their victim collapsed in a pile of dried blood and vomit. 

Morgan ran over checking for a pulse. 

"Guys we found her, we need an ambulance to our coordinates, wounds are deep and bleeding with a probable concussion and weak pulse, victim is not responding." Derek delivered into his mic.

Making quick work he started saying her name, trying to get a response. 

"Belle? Hey, Belle Winchester. Can you hear me?" He repeated this phrase multiple times, tapping along her blood-caked arms. 

"B-bluebird?" She gasped. 

"Ms. Winchester, please focus on me, you're losing a lot of blood and I need you to say awake." The agent pleaded. 

"I knew you'd save me again." She let out, struggling to regain her precious oxygen, ignoring the elder man's coaxing for her to remain silent. 

"Do you remember when you... saved me? In that warehouse?"

The young girls jade eyes stared emptily at the ceiling, seeing nothing, and yet she saw everything. A single tear glistened at the edge of her cheek, dripping down as it turned russet. 

"Ms. Winchester please save your energy."

A tight-lipped laugh greeted him. 

"I miss, I miss you... why'd you leave me?" Suddenly her eyes flickered to the chocolate ones above her, connecting with his soul in seconds. 

"Why'd she leave me?" Before Morgan could answer, an ambulance's cry interrupted, multiple team members and EMTs rushed into the room above them, Spencer leading them into the hidden room they occupied. 

Carefully the paramedics lifted her into a gurney and steered her from the room. 

Morgan met Spencer above, following the teen out of the wretched house. 

"There is something deeper going on," Morgan informed him. 

"What do you mean?"

"I just, her eyes man. The way they looked at me. I can't explain, she's scared and she's running. Also, there is one more thing."

"What?"

"Who the hell is Bluebird?" 

*1 year and two months earlier, Norfolk Virginia, With Belle in her memories*

Belle's breath caught as she cut the engine to her bike, teetering for a few seconds before she hopped off, machete in hand and gun strapped a holster on her thigh. Cracking her neck she re-ran the details of the case in her head. 

There had been a few mysterious 'animal attacks' over the past three weeks and they were only growing. Thinking back to the bodies she knew it was a vamp, that and the lack of blood that was displayed. The numbers had only increased as days passed, so that meant it was a nest and if Belle was right there would only be three or four, risky but there would be more bodies if it had been a larger clan. 

"Let's get this bullshit over with."

Stalking silently to the doors her eyes scanned for a different entrance, having already masked her scent with woodland, she could try and sneak in undetected. The only questions is, how she was gonna get in?

"Haha, fuck yes. Window open."

Parkouring slightly on an edge she swung her body into the industrial building. 

"Guess these guys were burdened with much schooling, huh? Close the windows to your abandoned warehouses' vampires, even the supernatural gets robbed." She quirked quietly to herself as she moved onwards, finding two vampires playing cards in a low lit room. 

Y'know A burglary takes place about every eighteen seconds in the United States. You guys should really close your windows."

Their heads snapped up, barring their teeth as they lunged at her. The first one was an easy down. the second, however, was a bit harder. He darted from side to side, trying to catch her side in order to send her tumbling down. Belle guessed this and danced around him at the last moment, his head bowed slightly she released a bitter chuckle and swung down. 

"If that's all they got this'll be easy."

Silently she walked down the corridors, distant creeks and dripping sounds echoed off the walls, a natural chill in the building. Finding an opening which was obviously the center of the nest there was filled with four vamps... cursing slightly Belle shrugged her shoulders before charging into battle, immediately decapitating the nearest monstrosity. 

"C'mon guys give me a fight!" She groaned as if on cue two of them lept at her sides. Struggling she flung her arms out, pushing against their snapping jaws that lusted for her blood. 

Kicking one down she quickly removed the dead weight that rested on his shoulders. The vamp next to her let out a mournful scream, angrily clawing down her side, leaving a thick trail of ripped cloth and blood. 

"He won't miss his head anyways," Belle hissed ignoring the pain, "But you'll be joining him very soon sweetheart." 

The monster got the jump on her, shoving her to the ground and knocking her weapon across the room. It lay on top of the hunter, straddling her hips and resting on her lower abdomen. 

"Now usually I don't complain when a woman climbs on me, but you see the blood thing... that's just to gross." Belle quipped. 

"You took him!" It screamed in her face. 

"Yup."

"Now, I'm gonna kill you."

Belle laughed and the vampire quirked an eyebrow. 

"What? What?!" 

"You see, I know enough about hunting to bring back up options."

"Wh-"

The sentence was stopped when Belle undid the barbed wire that acted as a belt around her hips, bringing her hands up she wrapped it around their neck, yanking as hard as she could. Gasping and struggling Belle forced the creature to come closer as she died, starring in her eyes. 

"Tell Dad I said hi." 

Yanking her arms apart the head was removed and it died with one last heave. Belle rolled her eyes and shoved the corpse off standing up. 

Suddenly she felt a burning pain in her back followed by a digging burning on the back of her throat. She'd forgotten the other vampire. 

Belle didn't care.

She was dying.

Dead.

Gone.

The sickly feeling washed over her, beads of sweat pooled and mixed with the scarlet rushing out of her. Feeling the hard thumping of her heart racking against her ribcage she shivered. The room was cold, so cold. 

Before she let go, embraced the beckoning call, she saw it. The most beautiful being standing over her, cinnamon painted skin and her eyes, oh god. She saw the reflection of hope and happiness. 

"Belle Winchester. Do not worry I will help you, just stay still and look at me... you are under my command now, and I will protect you with my life." Such a rich and authoritative tone, melting around her, coaxing her eyes closed and for the first time, a weight of safety fell around her. Suddenly a blinding light made her eyes snap open. The creature shushed her slightly coaxing her eyes to close again. 

"It's okay Belle."

"Belle? Belle Winchester? Are you awake? Are you with us?"

Belle opened her heavy lids slowly. Immediately on guard at the unknown surrounding. Shooting up ignoring the pain that consumed her body she sent panicked looks around the room. Beeping sirens sounded as her heart rate climbed. Then an arm pushed her down slightly, her orbs shot to who was touching her, a strange muscular man looked at her kindly. 

"Where am I?" She rasped. "Who are you?"

"You are at Lawrence Memorial Hospital. My name is Derek Morgan, I work for the FBI?" 

"Shit."

Whatever happens, they say afterwards, it must have been fate. People are always a little confused about this, as they are in the case of miracles. When someone is saved from certain death by a strange concatenation of circumstances, they say that's a miracle. But of course if someone is killed by a freak chain of events -- the oil spilled just there, the safety fence broken just there -- that must also be a miracle. Just because it's not nice doesn't mean it's not miraculous."   
― Terry Pratchett,


	11. Chapter 10 Pain

Pain is a pesky part of being human, I've learned it feels like a stab wound to the heart, something I wish we could all do without, in our lives here. Pain is a sudden hurt that can't be escaped. But then I have also learned that because of pain, I can feel the beauty, tenderness, and freedom of healing. Pain feels like a fast stab wound to the heart. But then healing feels like the wind against your face when you are spreading your wings and flying through the air! We may not have wings growing out of our backs, but healing is the closest thing that will give us that wind against our faces.

C. JoyBell C.

"You are at Lawrence Memorial Hospital. My name is Derek Morgan, I work for the FBI?" 

"Shit."

Belle's eyes scanned over the agent, soaking up all details she could before turning her attention to the room she was in. The scent of chemicals and sanitization left a sting on her tongue, the blinding white filled her vision causing her lids to squeeze against the unwanted brightness. An old television played on low, some type of daytime show was running, a hue of yellow tainting the screen. One door was to the side behind the unwanted visitor sitting vigil at her bedside. A warm gold spilled in through the singular window on her right, the faded curtains causing little coverage as the infernal streams burst through. It was dramatic, the soft lambency battling the artificial effulgence. 

Machine wires and tubes were hooked to her flesh, tangling her like a puppet, pulling the strings of her life, one pluck and she would no longer dance. It was then she'd noticed her own body, pain flashed through her limbs and dryness seeped into her throat making her more aware of her condition. 

A masculine coo brought her from her observations, there he sat, an aura of protection surrounding him. Dark skin glowed with happiness, yet his eyes were heavy with sleep. Even from a glance, she could see the stiffness in his own bones. The wrinkle in his shirt and the way his neck creaked it was quite obvious he'd slept beside her in a beaten chair. 

"Belle, how do you feel? Do you need anything?" 

Pale eyes flickered to his kind face, humiliation flushed through her like a wildfire, that aside she was quite parched. 

"Water?" Her usual silvery tone had an unpleasant croak, yet her request was given as a glass was rushed to her chapped lips. A long sip of the liquid brought relief, as the coolness seeped through her, the taste of a seemingly brackish undertone masked her taste buds but she ignored it, finishing the heavenly substance.

"Why am I here?" She asked. 

Derek had watched her movements when her voice brought him back, where she watched him, waiting for an answer. 

"Urm, you were kidnapped-" as he was about to go further she snapped up a hand halting him. 

"I know that" her hand dropped back to her lap, "I mean why am I in the hospital? You called me Winchester."

Morgan's eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, that's your name right?"

Her apple eyes rolled in exasperation. "So you know who my dad is, shouldn't I be in, y'know, jail or something?"

Now the agent was even more confused, "Why would you be in jail?" 

Belle opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again, "Why indeed." She stated cryptically. 

"Miss Winchester, I have a few questions to ask you, if you feel more comfortable I could get a female agent in here..." Derek trailed off as she quirked an eyebrow. 

"Why would that make me more comfortable?" 

"I just," The agent was at a loss for words as looked at her. "I don't know?" He offered. 

"Then," she whisked her hand at him, "Ask away. Can't promise you'll like the answers though."

Morgan nodded, pulling out a small tape recorder. "I have to record this, do you consent to that?"

"Guess so."

He pressed a side button before beginning with the questions. 

"When were you kidnapped?"

"Hmm, maybe a Tuesday? Always hated Tuesdays man."

"Urm, do you have a date?"

"Nope ima single woman." The girl winked at him, a mischevious smirk on her face. 

Derek smiled slightly but pushed it down as he lifted his eyebrows in a 'come on' gesture. A sigh answered him as she glanced up in a thoughtful manner. 

"Maybe May? I know it was hot..." Belle trailed off pursing her lips. 

"Hey, what is today anyway." 

"August 8th," Morgan informed her. 

"Huh," a smile painted her face," three months, not too bad." 

The man's eyes widened, worriedly gazing at her scarred form. "What do you mean?"

A shrug greeted him as she let out a poisiounsus phrase, "I've had worse."

"What do you mean worse?" Derek's eyes were soft, leaning forward slightly as he waited. 

"Forget it, I don't wanna talk about it." 

Choosing not to strain the newly bonded relationship he moved forward. "Did you know the man who kidnapped you before hand?" 

She shook her head. "Nope." 

"Do you know why he kidnapped you?" 

Belle stiffened, her skin turning pale and lip quivering slightly. "I'm done talking."

"Please Belle you're safe now."

"I said I'm done talking!" She snapped flaring her arms up as the beeping of the machines flared up. The gown that had covered her chest rid down, showing a large, wide scar on her chest.

"What is that?" Morgan leaned to get a better look at it only for her to grab the hem and yank it up. 

"Nothing."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Did you get branded?" 

"No."

"It looks... it looks like a wing?" 

Belle begun to get angry, lashing out at him face reddened with anger. 

"No. I did not get branded it isn't your business now leave."

"Ms Winchester calm down, I'm just trying to help." 

"I said leave!" She screamed, the monitor went crazy calling for the nurses, a few seconds later Morgan was pushed from the room and the door was closed. 

He stood in the hallway, people rushing around him alarms flashing and people talking. 

"What the hell?" He whispered before turning and leaving the hospital. 

My comfort zone is like a little bubble around me, and I've pushed it in different directions and made it bigger and bigger until these objectives that seemed totally crazy eventually fall within the realm of the possible.   
Alex Honnold


	12. Chapter 11 Memories

Every soldier must know, before he goes into battle, how the little battle he is to fight fits into the larger picture, and how the success of his fighting will influence the battle as a whole.

Bernard Law Montgomery 

Deep breaths of air seeped into Belle's lungs, the taste of anesthetics stained her tongue as nurses buzzed around her bedside. She ignored their questions, writing them off with a wave of her hand. One particular nurse smiled at her, checking that the IV they'd put in her arm hadn't slipped. 

"I know it can be scary, hospital." The woman quirked a manicured eyebrow and looked up at her once she had finished her checking. "Especially for a girl your age, I mean, I have a daughter and she's not too far off... well," She sighed and looked to Belle's bandages. "I could not imagine her hurt."

With an ache of her heart, Belle returned the apathetic smile, quickly checking the name on her shirt before adjusting herself slightly. "Thank you, Nurse Alverez, that was... very kind."

The woman scoffed in response patting the patient's head while she turned to leave. As she reached the door her hand hesitated, she cast a glance over her shoulder and smiled to the dozing child. "Get better el angelito, I can tell you're important." with that the Cuban mother left the room, off to do other menial tasks. 

*A little less than a year ago, Littletown New Hampshire, With Belle and Jaibrian*

Sweat pooled off of Belle's face mixing with dried blood cacking her skin like battle paint. Wounds were scarce but still present as the teen hummed in content happily arriving at the lone motel room she had rented. Well her and this seemingly sentient growth out of her side. 

The roaring machine calmed into a purr as she halted, cutting the engine off and hopping off her baby. Patting the seat affectionately and luging her arsenal over her shoulder approaching the door utterly exhausted a flutter made her stop her movements... speak of the devil. 

"Belle? You seem to be hurt, would you like me to heal your wounds?" Delicate fingers darted to touch the hunter, who jerked back like a snake had struck. 

"Rian, it's just a few scratches..." the leather-clad adolescent trailed off as her request was ignored and her celestial being inched closer, reaching out again. "Rian! Stop, I said I was fine." Belle caught her wrist in a calloused grip to stop more attempts, whilst using her other hand to push the door open.

"I understand you do not see the need for this but you must understand it is-" Jabrian's honey slicked words were cut off by a sarcastic mimic. 

"-it is your godly duty to protect me! And you shall, even if it means slaying demons and brothers alike!" She raised her voice in a faux magisterial crescendo. A huff escaped the dramatic girl as she flung her dirty body upon the sheets of her bed. "Well you have to understand I don't need anyone!" Her arms flopped to her side in an exasperated manner. 

A reposeful hum met her whinging and the angel picked up discarded clothing items and random knives that had fallen after they'd been embedded into the wall. "Well need or not I am here. It is my duty." A stern tone consumed her voice as she furrowed her eyebrows and polished off a knife's blade with the soft silk of her shawl. "No human will stop me from pleasing my father." 

Anger filled Belle's chest, two months she'd spent with this creature. Two! And yet here she sat, still an assignment. Still just a human. "Well if that's all I am to you, an object for you to use so your precious dad can give you a pat on the back... count me out. Watch from a distance, go back to the pearly gates, whatever. Just don't come back here."

With that Belle moved abruptly to the bathroom door and slammed it huffing heavily as she fought the tears trying to escape her eyes. Stupid unfeeling Angels, stupid God and stupid Dad for leaving... for dying. 

She watched herself in the mirror, her skin had paled and cheekbones sharpened with the lack of care she'd given herself. Yet everything she saw, every detail of her face, from the green shimmer of her eyes to the pout of rose lips, it all reflected her fathers. The man who gave up everything for her uncle. The echo of his agonized screams presented themselves as dark bruises underneath her eyelids. The mirror showed a broken version of him. Not her... him.

Anger ripped through her body like a wildfire, sharp tingles stung the palms of her hands as she twisted it into a fist, throwing it through the glass and shattering it. Humming in both pain and content her gaze stayed frozen on the spiderweb of cracks and missing pieces until the warmth of blood slipping down her knuckles brought her back to reality. 

Belle wiggled her fingers before shrugging her clothes off and starting up the shower leaving the mess behind. There she sat under heated water staring into nothing. The only sound she could hear was the wails of her fallen father and the sobs of her Uncle and Bobby. 

*Today, Lawrence Memorial Hospital, With Belle*

Shooting up in her bed Belle glanced around the white room, the only glow was the machines signifying she'd not stopped breathing. Rolling her orbs slightly she sat up, grabbing the IV stand and slowly got up, ignoring the screams of her bones. Padding over on her bare feet she went to a chair that was placed by an opened window. Placing herself carefully in the uncomfortable felt. 

The stars glew like fireflies in the pools of midnight, flickering like a conversation. Stretching out beyond their planets skies. A smile tickled the corners of her mouth as she sat and waited, as if someone would appear there, in the unconscious empty space she'd left beside her. 

"Do you remember when you saw stars? God, you were taken away... I think that was the first time you'd looked up. Then again you were always so focused on flying you were to busy to look up... right Bluebird?" Belle's wistful voice filled the otherwise silent room. No one answered, of course, no one had been there to answer. Yet the teen carried on anyway, even with the lack of audience. "I think that was when I realized you had emotions, how could I not? The way you looked at the universe. I don't know how to explain it." Belle's hand had moved it's way up while she talked tracing the scar on her chest.

"If only I could pray to you... one last time." Her voice broke with her demeanor, liquid slipping down her cheeks, voice truly broken. "Please... come back." She whispered, curling in on herself and falling into her memories. 

*A little less than a year ago, Littletown New Hampshire, With Belle and Jaibrian*

Night had now fallen upon Littletown and Jaibran hadn't been anywhere in sight after their squabble. Belle sighed doing what she always did when she had an argument with someone, went to go stargazing. 

Driving on her motorcycle to a lone field she'd passed beforehand she slipped off, grabbing her oversized blanket and laying down, getting lost in the beauty of the universe above her. That was until a flutter brought her out of her engrossment. 

"Belle? What are you doing out here?" With a tilt of her head, the angel watched her carefully and curiously. 

"None of your business." Belle hissed sitting up into a cross-legged position. Scrunching up her delicate nose the being sat with the hunter.

"You're hurt," she accused, reaching for the human's injured hand to get a closer look in the darkened atmosphere. 

"Yeah, shit happens." She yanked her hand back towards her body sending a warning look to Jaibrian, who in turn played with tightly wound hair that fell on her shoulder. 

"I understand you're angry with me-"

"Damn right."

"-But I would like to apologize." 

Surprised Belle paused nodding for her to continue. 

"What I did was rude, you aren't just my charge or a duty. You've been accepting of my presence and I did not realize how hard this was for you... letting me into your life I mean." Head and shoulders drooped the warrior awaited the teen's response. 

"Heh, you know what? I may be crazy but, I forgive you. I mean you're just tryina look out for me." To this, the celestial nodded her head almost frantically. "Which is refreshing. I'm not the easiest person to keep safe." 

The girls shared a laugh and Belle gestured for her angel to sit on the blanket with her. Inquisitively Jaibrian sat on her legs in a kneeling position through her eyes fixated on the hunter's scabbed hand. 

"Yeah go ahead, can't handle you starin' at it all night." Belle placed her pale hand into the cinnamon one, awaiting the angel mojo to do its work. Soon relief flooded through her whole body. Happily, Jabrian brushed her thumb over the newly healed knuckles and slowly returned Belle's hand back to her lap letting go reluctantly. What she hadn't noticed was the red glow that consumed her charge's cheeks. 

"So what are you doing out in a field?" Belle hummed before turning to answer the question. 

"When Dad and John used to fight I'd leave and go find an empty spot and think, cause my mom. She always told me that if life ever got to hard look up. That If I could not see beauty around me It was always above me. When John died and Dad and Sam fought I just kept doing it y'know?" Belle smiled at the thought before turning to look to her friend next to her. Jabrian watched her in awe. 

"You're mother sounds like a smart woman." With a nod, Belle looked down. 

"Yeah, she was." A comfortable silence fell between them the hunter watched the sky whilst the angel looked at the woods. 

When Belle noticed this she furrowed her brows and nudged the girl next to her. "What are you doing?" 

"I thought we were sitting in silence and staring at different things." The green-eyed teen snorted in laughter before lying back and motioned for her to follow. 

"Look up," she whispered watching the expressions on the angel's face go from confusion to astonishment. 

"Woah!" Her navy orbs reflected the bursts of light in the darkened sky, skin shining with the glow of a full moon.

"Have you never seen the night sky before?" Belle asked shocked by the staggered reaction even more so when the answer was no. 

"I wasn't really allowed to go on earth missions for a while... no angels were. When the apocalypse happened rules against meddling with humanity...It went out the metaphorical window. Then your life was almost lost and that wouldn't have been ideal. So I was sent here to keep after you. I guess I was to busy looking at you." 

The hunter blushed harder but nodded along to the explanation. "Well remember to now... I'm not much to look at."

"I beg to differ, I think you represent the beauty of humanity..."

"You're not to bad yourself Bluebird." 

With that, they layed there in utter harmony and comfort. Stolen glances and quiet thoughts were shared as the stars gleamed above them. The taste of dew ingrossed their scenes, causing a heavy calming aura around them. With the exhaustion of the hunt and emotions, Belle fell asleep turning over to lay in the arms of Jaibrian who hugged just a bit harder and watched closer. The beauty of the teen next to her overpowering the stars. There she lay whilst Belle dreamed of her, she watched over her. Unknown feelings filling her. 

"Ξαπλώστε καλά κυνηγός, όταν ξυπνάτε θα είμαι εδώ. Κανείς δεν θα σας βλάψει, ενώ σας κρατώ. Τι είναι αυτό; Αυτό το συναίσθημα. Είναι αγάπη?"

"I like the stars. It's the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they're always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend...I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don't last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend..."

Neil Gaiman 


	13. Chapter 12 Soldier

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age." 

― H.P. Lovecraft

A calloused hand arouses her from warm dreams, hissing Belle struggled to grasp the fleeting feeling of soothing slumber. Her eyes fluttered, trying to get used to the brightened room around her. She was faced with a cold glass pane overlooking the city. Obviously, she'd fallen asleep by the window. Then her attention flashed back to that hand and all grogginess was forgotten, her own hand snapped up, grabbing the wrist harshly. 

With fluid movements, her body erupted into action. Immediately, she twisted his arm exposing the underneath and bending their fingers so their body went with it. 

"Belle! It's me, Derek Morgan." He gasped out slightly in pain. "Let go please?"

She held her position for a second before relenting, slowly releasing his hand and snapping back into a defensive position. Not breaking eye contact her head tilted slightly to the side, a trait she'd picked up. "What do you want." Her voice wasn't harsh, more so cold, ineffectual. 

Morgan sighed cradling his throbbing hand slightly. "I needed to talk to you, I know I went over my boundaries yesterday but," He trailed slightly sheepish as he continued. "You're kinda a big deal in Quantico so my Boss wants to uh... well hurry this along."

Her jade coloured eyes bored into him before quirking a smirk that mirrored the one her father used to wear. "Isn't it dangerous to push a trauma victim into speaking?" 

Taken aback he veered slightly, "I uh, what?"

"Yeah. Forcing someone to talk about a terrible event is making someone re-live the experience and all of the negative emotions that come with it. Pressuring the individual to open can cause psychological, emotional, and sometimes physiological consequences from reliving that experience, aren't you supposed to know this?" A delicate eyebrow shot up in a challenge. Suddenly Derek really wished he had Reid with him. 

"I understand that, if you aren't ready to speak," He tried to backpedal but Belle wasn't done having fun yet. 

"I never said I wasn't ready." She moved back to her bed IV trailing behind her as she settled down. "Although if your boss really wants answers well they are capable of gracing us with their presence, yes?" 

Derek huffed laughing slightly at her. "Not yet, you're stuck with me for a bit." 

"Ahh, a shame really." She quipped, suddenly Morgan heard a tear and watched Belle rip a thin strip of fabric from the sheet and then tying up her long opaque locks. "I hate my hair being down." She explained turning to him and waiting. 

The agent got his recorder out and clicked the button before delving into questions. "Miss Winchester do you know where your father is?" 

"Ooo getting down and dirty before breakfast huh agent? Hmm, let's see I vaguely remember a helicopter and the KABOOM explosion. His beautiful fatherly body was burnt to a nice sizzling crisp that, I was told, wasn't identifiable so my bets on dead." Morgan kept watch of her eyes seeing the underlying pain creeping through. 

"Could he have survived?" He found himself questioning. 

"Seeing as it was a piston engine it used avgas fueling and well seeing as that burns to an average temperature of 2,800 degrees Fahrenheit and humans can only withstand an average of 140 degrees, well ill let you deduct those odds." She snipped. 

Derek watched her curiously. "How do you know that?"

Belle laughed slightly and genuinely, catching the agent off guard. "Honestly? I just seem to remember everything I read." She played with her IV slightly as if shrugging of embarrassment. 

"Ha! That reminds me of someone, you actually might get along with him." He trailed before shaking and remembering what he was doing. "When you lived with your father did you know what he was doing?" 

The air felt thicker and Derek watched her eyes lose the dash of light in them. "I-" She trailed as if a loss for words. "I don't know how to answer that." Belle supplied. Before anything could be continued a nurse came in with food, placing it down and hurrying out. The teen looked at the kale and assortment of other greens.

"Rabbit food." She groaned but ate anyways as Derek slipped out to let her enjoy her meal. 

Sighing slightly he nodded to the officer posted outside her room. traveling down the hallways in disarray. He entered the waiting room where Reid and JJ sat awaiting new information. 

Spencer was the first to notice his form, placing his book down he rose to his feet to greet his friend. "So, anything?" JJ looked from her phone awaiting his answer. 

"Well, Dean is dead according to her and I don't know about the killings I think she did but didn't really realize what was happening." Derek relayed. The pair of agents sat in the uncomfortable chairs and discussed Belle. 

Derek just had no clue how to act. She was obviously not going to open up anytime soon, no matter the gender of the agent she talked to. That and she had an abundant distaste for authority, something Morgan could sympathize with seeing as he did too. Yet when her body snapped into an upright position and her defensive skills he could see she was trained for war. She was a soldier, and he had no clue how to approach that. 

"I've heard of more ways to die in this war than I knew there were corpses. I've heard there isn't a battle where both sides don't shoot their own men -- sometimes on purpose and sometimes for mercy, but most of the time by mistake. I've heard boys on both sides are killing themselves, so they don't burn or smother or drown or starve, or pass whatever they're dying of to others. I've heard about guerrillas and murders and firing squads. I've reached the point where I don't know if anyone ever just dies from the other side's bullets." ― Cynthia Bass, 


	14. Chapter 13 The Marine

We have a saying in the Marine Corps and that is 'no better friend, no worse enemy, than a U.S. Marine.' We always hope for the first, friendship, but are certainly more than ready for the second.

John F. Kelly

Rossi entered the hospital hesitantly, he wasn't sure how he was going to approach this case if you could even call it that. Morgan and Reid came up with the idea of him getting to know Belle, why? They decided that if she was raised as a soldier who better to speak to her than ex-marine? 

He stood outside the room a 'care package' as Penelope had excitedly told him was balanced in his hands. An assortment of sweets, plushes, and toiletries wrapped delicately inside. Stiffly he knocks on the door frame not wanting to walk in without permission. 

A silvery tone answered him carefully as a figure he'd recognized from a screen appears in front of him. "Can I help you?"

The elder man was taken aback, the young girl looked much better her freckled cheeks showing a rosier tint as a good sign of health. The cold eyes he'd come to associate with her had an ember of light flickering inside the greening depths. It seemed her jade eyes were slowly taking on an apple green tone. Her short stature had taken a defensive position, her body was rigid and ready for a fight as she awaited his answer. 

"Hello, I'm Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi..." he trialed slightly as her eyebrow raised. 

"Identification." 

David stared surprised letting out a befuddled, "What?"

"Your badge, let me see it." She extended an impatient hand as Rossi quickly got his identification out. Belle scanned over it quickly before handing it back to him, nodding in confirmation. "Allora, Rossi, è Italiano?" She made her way back to her bed as he followed her. "Spero proprio di sì o si può pensare che sono pazzo, ben più di quello che fai già." 

A joyful laugh rose to his chest having a slight dumbfounded ring."Come conoscete l'italiano?" He asked taking a seat. 

"Il mio nome è Belle per un motivo." She answered folding her hands in her lap. 

"You are full of surprises Miss Winchester." 

"Is that good or bad?" She quirked snarkily. 

"We'll find out, this is for you by the way. Our co-worker Penelope made it herself." He handed over the gift and settled in, used to the toughness of these chairs. 

Belle looked at it placing it to her side as the pair sat in silence. "So, Vietnam? Also, how does a Marine end up becoming an author?" She asked out of nowhere

"How did you know I served in Vietnam and that I was a Marine?" He jerked forward slightly in confusion. "Am I that readable?" 

Her eyes trained on him expertly. "Your haircut while quite lax still follows military grade quirks, sideburns cut before the first small of the ear, the sides barely away from your scalp," She hummed slightly continuing on. " Your stature as you walked in was a tell also, your eyes surveyed the room looking for threats and exits. That and your ring." She motioned for his hand to be placed above hers, not touching. "The black onyx was limited towards those serving in Vietnam, many use black agate as a substitute but it has more of a greenish glow." Her hand ghosted over his as she continues. "Black onyx is very limited towards Naval and Marine use, seeing as it pertains to self-control, decision-making, intuition, and protection." All Rossi could do was stare at her as her finger circled the motto on the outer edges of his ring. "Mors est in Tenebris," She spoke in perfect Latin. "Death in the Dark." She nodded. "It was a Marine motto in the Vietnam era, the third battalion I believe. Nicknamed Shadow Warriors." Delicately she moved his hand back using his sleeve. 

"That was very impressive," Rossi managed out after a minute of sitting in shock. her mannerisms holding light to Sherlock Holmes a character up until now, he believed lived only in a fantasy world. 

"Now." She sighed a far sheen veiling her eyes, "What questions do you wish to ask me? I'd rather not make pleasantries with someone only here to rip sensitive questions about my shitty childhood." 

The older man had the decency to feel guilty before delving into a few questions more about her than her past. "How many languages do you speak?"

Her eyebrow quirked but she didn't comment on the shift of attention from the agent. "A few. I know English, Latin, Italian, Polish and a bit of French although I'm rusty in Polish." 

Could she be more impressive? She was full of twists and turn and it took a lot for David to keep up. "What grade are you in?"

"Uhhh, I don't know... last time I went to a school was sixth grade I think or was it fifth..." She trailed lightly, shrugging at the end. "I hated it anyway. New school every month filled with pubescent and idiotic children." 

This continued on for an hour, asking trivial things about her life growing up. In which he'd usually get a snarky response and sarcastic snip before his answer was given. This was until he got in depth about her life. "How did you find your father? Why?" She stopped staring at him before a smile appeared on her face, it wasn't real it was bitter and hate-filled.

"Well when I was young, four, my mother died. Well, I say died, she was murdered and we had a plan for that. So I talked to the cops and got the hell outta dodge. With a backpack filled with let's say two hundred I went off and lived with a family friend for a year. When I was five they put me out and had to track down dear ol' dad. I found him and my grandfather at a small inn in Georgia after searching for a few months, hopping bus to bus and sleeping in random places. Let's just say it wasn't the best of times for a kid. After I convinced the guy I was his kid I stayed with him till he died." 

Rossi nodded watching her antics seeing she hadn't lied that entire time. "We're going to get into some more sensitive subjects. Is that all right?" 

"I don't have much of a say now do I? Hurry up before nurse A comes in and kicks your Italian ass out. She isn't as nice as I am." Belle flashed him her teeth as she awaited his drilling. 

"I'm told by the doctors who performed surgery on you, you have multiple tattoos, is that correct?" 

"Yeah, I have two."She looked at him carefully. 

"Can you tell me what they mean? I have the pictures of them." He asked looking at the file that held the images. This happened so they could use the pictures of her injuries in the court.

"Creep, but I guess so. Give me the pictures." She held her hand out and received the glossed sheets. "Okay so this one all the Winchester's get, basically it is a protection symbol and kind of a crest."

Her fingers trailed over the next one a smile on her face. "This was my second one. The writing is Enochian and its an angel claim." 

"An angel's claim?" He echoed. He could semi understand the protection symbol, but an angel's claim?

"Yeah." She snapped her demeanor changing completely, now turning defensive. 

Rossi found himself backpedaling once again. "I was just confused, there isn't anything wrong with that-" He was cut off by the girl. 

"I know there isn't. " Belle stated firmly. Before the argument could sizzle a Nurse came in to administer her medicine and Rossi was pushed from the room. 

Standing in the busying hallway the veteran made his way to the station where his team awaited his updates. 

When he entered the meeting room his colleagues sat over piles of take-out laughing as they passed the time. Each in a different stage of amusement their favourite tech-analysist broadcasted on the wall. Basking in the merriment David felt the hang of dread evaporate, dispersing in the glow of happiness. 

His moment of warmth was taken when his old friend and boss called upon his attention. "David, any news on Miss Winchester?" The team fell silent as eyes snapped to his figure, waiting in hopes of a connection. 

He took a seat with a heavy-heart, reluctant to disappoint them. "Sorry, not much, I did find some interesting things out though." Everyone waited, almost an impatient buzz whirling in the air. "She is more intelligent than we thought."

Reid perked up, sliding his glasses up with his middle finger he did a small movement of excitement. "What do you mean?" 

"She can deduct like Sherlock and speak five languages other than English, including Latin." He quirked a graying eyebrow as he swirled his chair watching as shock sheened over the faces of those in the room. 

"Did you know, Conan Doyle repeatedly said that Holmes was inspired by the real-life figure of Joseph Bell, a surgeon at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh? Conan Doyle met him in 1877 and had worked for as a clerk. Like Holmes, Bell was noted for drawing broad conclusions from minute observations." Reid raddled trying to add insight into the character. "The art of deduction is a true skill that even some of our classes were modeled after." 

JJ stared at him before running a hand through her silky blonde locks. "If the FBI teaches it, how did a sixteen-year-old somehow perfect it to Sherlock levels." She asked her hands falling to the table. "Did she teach herself?"

Prentiss' lips pinched to the side as she went over the facts. "So she can speak multiple languages, can deduct at rapid pace, and some-how tracked her father down when she was four? Is that even possible?" 

"Six." Rossi corrected, "She stayed with a family friend until she was five and found her father when she was about six."

"Still, that is like, crazy smart!" Penelope yelped from the screen, speaking for the first time.

Meanwhile Hotch sat silently, soaking up as much information he could whilst he watched the mannerisms of the team. 'What about the tattoos?" His orotund tone rang. 

"She has two, a protection symbol and a passage in enochian."

"Enochian?" Reid echoed his fingers twiddling in the air. "The language of angels?" 

The italian man nodded. "Her family doesn't seem highly religious but this could be connected to something of the occult. Sam and Dean had the same symbol on their chest as Belle does. It could be initiation."

"So you mean to tell me she was born into a cult?" Came Penelope's panicked reply causing Derek to hush her lightly. 

"That makes sense but why the Angel writing?" Rossi's eyes trained on the usual talkative male. 

"She said it was an angel's claim." Confused gazes shot to him as he shrugged. Suddenly Derek hopped up. 

"The brand!" He yelled. 

"What brand?" Hotch queried. 

"When I met her, the top of her gown rid down and showed the tip of a brand. It looked like a wing."

"Guys I think I know what he's talking about..." Garcia gulped lightly. "The doctors took a picture of it." A tear slipped down her cheek as she pulled up the picture. 

"Holy hell," Derek whispered, his heart filling with grief, the warmth the room had once felt draining. 

Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and leading to the most outre results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable

Arthur Conan Doyle 


	15. Chapter 14 Scars

Warning long chapter

Belle's eyes watched the soldier leave her room, Rossi, her mind reminded her. Her pale fingers traced the inscription that Jabrian had left on her ribs. These FBI agents brought up dark memories, each fighting to the forefront of her thoughts which was extremely unappreciated. 

The nurse busied herself with vitals and other menial tasks as Belle felt herself sink further and further into seductions of her past. Letting her body lose the ache and her heart feel ever so lighter, she drifted into her subconscious and let the images of her whilom play beneath her lids. 

*Six months ago, Chapel, with the Winchesters.* 

The screams overwhelmed the young girl's ears, her eyes glazed as she saw the pentagram drawn in blood open. A pillar of blinding light beaming as the diameter grew. Belle felt a pull on her jacket as her father hugged her to his chest. Grabbing for Sam who was transfixed by the scene in front of them. 

"Come on!" His gruff tone urged pulling at his brother. 

"Dean," he gasped holding on to him as well, "he's coming." 

"Come on." He repeated making moves immediately. Dean grabbed Belle shoving her as the trio flew to the exit to escape the shaking room, the large wooden door blocking their attempts. The intensity grew and Belle felt it, the power of him coming. Between the splintering of the door and the mysterious ringing surrounding them, the boys peeled over in pain leaving Belle standing, watching. 

The light coruscating violently, Belle whimpered eyes flashing as she couldn't peel away, Dean tried tugging her down with him but it seemed as if she were stuck. The last words she heard before blacking out was, 

"Hello, Ecclesia,"

Gasping she felt someone nudging her shoulder vigorously. "Princess," shove, "C'mon, open your eyes kiddo, you gotta be okay." With that, her eyes snapped to see her father leaning over her. 

"Where are we?" The vacant looks were answer enough. 

Dean looked to Sam who was on the end seat. "What the hell?"

Eyebrows raised, "I don't know." Her Uncle gaped. 

A cracking overhead caused the family to look up in confusion. "Folks, a quick word from the flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore..."

"Ilchester? Weren't we just there?" Her father cut him off gesturing to the window whilst Belle nodded, taking note of a stupid loony toons cartoon that had been playing, surprise surprise, it had to do with the devil. 

"So if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time too." The pilot tried to continue as the plane jerked in the sky causing the stewardess to go flying to the floor and the emergency breathing bags to pop down. Springing into action Belle whipped it over her face quickly, gripping on to her father's sleeve in fright. The windows once again flooding with brightness. 

Welp, this is gonna be an interesting flight. 

*Present day, Lawrence Memorial Hospital, with Belle*

"Hello? Ms. Winchester?" A light female voice brought her out of her thoughts as she faced three doctors dressed in white coats in front of her. One was male, obviously the boss of the other two. The next was the woman talking, he curly hair pulled back leaving piercing kind eyes. Lastly, a male who stood stiffly, his hands folded expertly across his torso as he watched her intensely. 

"Sorry doc, can I help you three?" Belle tilted her chin assessing them quickly making sure there were no falsities in their appearance and classifying threats. 

The male stepped forward drawing a smile upon his face. "Hi, I'm Doctor Melendez and this is my team, Doctor Brown," His hand gestures to the female on his left, "And Doctor Murphy." His hand twitched to the awkward male who made a slight wave. 

"Not to be rude but what do you want?" She questioned, not liking being outnumbered with no weapons on her. 

Doctor Melendez must have recognized the urgency as he waved a hand to calm her down. "I am the surgeon who operated on you. We wanted to check up and talk to you." Belle watched impatiently as he obviously tip-toed around the issue he wanted to speak of. 

"Get to it then, and start talking." She quickly snapped. Like magic, the Murphy went to the machines as he began to speak once more. 

"Well," he started picking up a clipboard at the foot of her bed, "We noticed your scar whilst doing surgery and wanted to ask if you'd like to try an experimental procedure to remove it." He tried to continue but was cut off. 

"No." She hissed. 

"No?" Doctor Brown echoed. "If it is cost you are worried about-"

Belle's seething gaze fell on her. "I don't give a fuck about money. I said no."

Melendez jumped in again. "This is a completely safe process-"

Now Belle really got angry. "I said no. Now get the hell out of my room, only one of you is needed and look at that, there is only one doctor I don't currently want to kill, so get the fuck out." The two exchanged a glance and nodded leaving the room, leaving the young one behind. His puppy-like blue eyes watching her, his mannerism reminding her of Castiel. 

"You swear a lot." His patterned tone flew out, causing a smile to draw on Belle's lips. "Do you swear so you appear rude and unapproachable?" He queried. 

She laughed a chiming melody. "I suppose or maybe I don't appreciate doctors who act like they know everything." She stated calmly. 

A nod answered her remark as his position moved to check the bandaging on her abdomen. "Why don't you want to get rid of your scar?" 

Belle hummed. "Why would I want to? Scars are a controversial thing, aren't they? Any other I would have said yes, but this one? It's special. I will never be ashamed to bear this mark." Her hand pressed against her chest and Belle didn't know if she spoke of the one on her skin or on her heart. 

"I think I understand, like a tattoo?" A nod answered him as he finished his inspection. "I like your tattoo, the inscription." He stated matter of factly. 

Belle smiled calmly. "Thank you, Doctor Murphy." He left the room and the youngest Winchester sighed a tear slipping down her skin, an action that once again propelled her into painful reminiscence. 

*1 year ago, Rental Car, with the Winchesters.* 

The air was stiff with emotional constipation and brewing anger, what else is new, Belle mussed. She sat in the silver car that had nothing on baby watching the crackling tension between her father and uncle, making mental bets on who would speak first. Her bets on Sam. 

The rain fell in heavy sheets against the back road, car illuminated only by soft lights blinking on the dash. The muffled sound of plinking rain mixed with the swoosh of windshield wipers, and artificial warmth surrounding them as the radio droned on. 

The female spokeswoman's vice wrang out annoyingly reporting on the events no one seemed to have answers for. "And Governor O'Malley urged calm, saying it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown." Oof, so much for calming the public.

A louder voice broke the serenity that had been granted upon them, the stiffness in the air shattering with the silence. "Change the station."

Sam poked the button on the digital radio allowing another reporter to fill the car again. "Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area." Another click. "Announced a successful test of the North Korean nuclear-" Yet another click and exasperated look. "—a series of tremors—" click. "-Swine flu!-" Finally, Belle had enough and reached in between them and clicked off the radio, ignoring the look from Sam, before leaning back and blowing her bangs from her face. 

Sam, obviously not handling the silence well, started talking. "Dean, look." He starts getting cut off. 

"Don't say anything." Dean huffs. "It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?"

Belle rolls her eyes, yeah the Devil is walking the earth but its fine, Sam can never be at fault. 

"Yeah, okay." Sam pouted slightly like a kicked puppy. 

"All right, well, first things first—How did we end up on Soul Plane?" His eyes met Belle's in the mirror as if asking her if she knew anything, to which she shrugged. 

Sam glanced back slightly, he really hadn't been getting along with his niece lately. "Angels, maybe? I mean, you know, beaming us out of harm's way?"

"Well, whatever. It's the least of our worries. We need to find Cas and Jay." Dean turned his head as if to tell his daughter to get on that. 

Belle leaned forward in her seat so she was in between the two men. "Rian isn't up my ass like Castiel is up yours, Dad. In case you hadn't realized my angel isn't as clueless as yours and she has something called a cellphone." Then she slid back ignoring the defiant calls of her father and taking out her phone calling said person, well, said celestial being. 

The ringing went on for a little before a click notified her that the line was picked up. 

"Belle?" Came the immediately panicked voice causing her heart to race slightly. "Are you okay? Are you safe? Hurt?" More hurried questions got muffled as a bright red glow rose to her cheeks. 

"I'm fine bluebird, calm down would'ya?" The rambling ceased as she began to speak again. "Lucifer is out and walking and we were beamed up into a plane, where are you?"

A sigh answered her. "In the mountains of ararat. Angel radio has been exponentially loud, I can't get a read of brother Castiel or my superiors. I was also ridden with worry about you, I wish you had just stayed with me."

Belle's eyes flashed to her guardians, wishing she could have his conversation away from prying ears. "I know but I couldn't let them... I wouldn't have been able to." She whispered.

A demonstrative murmur flitted through the phone. "I know, but as you also know, you are mine to protect Winchester. How can I do that if you disappear in the middle of the night."

A twitch tingled the edges of Belle's lips. "I'm sorry Blue, meet us at Chuck's? Then I won't leave without you again." 

"Fine. Although I don't understand why I can't just fly." 

"Cause you gotta protect my baby, duh." The huntress jests before wishing her goodbye. 

"I will make sure no harm comes to your death machine. See you soon."

Belle clicked off glancing up to see her father and uncle exchanging glances. "What?" She snapped, all warmth that she held on the phone gone. 

"Nothing, nothing." Dean hurried before trying the radio again and driving to Chucks.

Sighing she settled down into the seat, missing the smooth and worn leather of baby as she closed her eyes and drifted off. 

***

When the Winchester's pull to Chucks house Jabrian is sat on Belle's bike, waiting, looking at them worriedly as the hunter's climb stiffly from the car. Immediately throwing herself off the bike to meet the youngest, looking over her for wounds. 

"Hey, Bluebird, I told you I was fine." Belle waggled her eyebrows at the angel who scowled back at her. 

This didn't stop the fingers being pressed to her forehead, sucking the pain of her joints and putting her aching body at ease. "I was worried," Jabrian whispered. 

She was met with a guilty and sheepish look. "I'm sorry." Belle ran a hand through her deep black hair, that was uncharacteristically down. 

Shrugging her off Rian's eyes flew to her hair. "I like your hair down." She offered, causing a snort from her charge. 

"Alright kids. Let's find Cas." Dean said pulling his daughter to his side and eyeing the supernatural being.

"I am eons older than you, watch yourself eldest Winchester." Came a short warning whilst Belle was pulled by the angel who linked their arms and headed off towards the house. 

They enter the house to complete disarray. It had looked like an explosion had gone off in the middle of the room. Dark soot blanketed the air heavily, items were strewn across their paths, subtle creeks and groans of the floorboard made the hunters tense. 

A sudden noise caught their attention, Belle reached for her firearm tucked away in her belt whilst Jabrian's angel blade fell into her hand. They gave each other a glance, falling into synchronization whilst Sam and Dean took up the head of the group, splitting off to look around. 

A thunk caught all their attention as they watched Chuck leap out and smack Sam in the head with a plunger. "Geez! Ow!" He cried, clutching his head. Seeing no immediate dangers, weapons were stowed. 

"Sam." He almost asked, putting down his 'weapon' and looking utterly confused. 

Her Uncle glared slightly. "Yeah!" He snapped, hand still on his head. Dean stepped up beside his brother. 

"Hey, Chuck." The prophet watched carefully, nodding to the two girls before his eyes went back to Sam.

"So...you're okay?" He panted slightly. 

Sam watched him carefully, nodding along. "Well, my head hurts." 

Chuck waved him off. "No, I mean—I mean, my—My last vision. You went full on Vadar. "

Belle rolled her eyes. Something about him always bugged her, it was like he was hiding something... 

"Your body temperature was one-fifty. Your heart rate was two hundred. Your eyes were black." He rushed out.

"Your eyes went black?" Father and daughter spouted in unison. 

Sam glanced back over his shoulder at them. "I didn't know."

Angrily Dean dismissed him. "Where's Cas?" He directed toward the smaller man. 

"He's dead. Or gone. The archangel smote the crap out of him. I'm sorry." He informed them, Jabrian stiffening beside her.

"You're sure? I mean, maybe he just vanished into the light or something." Dean asked his face falling. 

Chuck passed slightly. "Oh, no. He, like, exploded." He gestured around him wildly. "Like a water balloon of chunky soup."

Belle ran her hand slightly over the angel next to her in condolences. "We don't need a visual." She snapped. 

The drunk had the decency to look apologetic as he shifted towards Sam who looked closer at him. "You got a—" Sam waved his hand over his ear a silent instruction for Chuck to follow suit. 

"Uh...right here?" He tried.

Sam indicates the other side of the man's head. "Uh, the..." he trailed slightly. 

Chuck felt at his hair. "Oh. Oh, god." He whimpered pulling something out. "Is that a molar? It is. Do I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day." He panicked breathlessly. 

Dean feeling Cas' loss turned to the few things he knew, anger and self-loathing. "Cas, you stupid bastard."

"Stupid? He was trying to help us." Sam snapped looking at his elder brother. 

"Yeah, exactly." He sad in a tone that directed the conversation was done. 

While they argued Belle watched Chuck, seeing something was off. "What?"

"Oh, crap." He stated, Jabrian picking up on it also. 

Sam echoed his niece's previous statement. "What?"

"I can feel them." 

Belle's gaze flicked to Zachariah smugly waiting with two angels by his side. Jabrian allowed her angel blade to fall. "Thought we'd find you here." The other two spun on their heels as the dick kicked a random object. 

"Playtime's over, Dean. Time to come with us." He informed him

Dean threw up his hand pointing at him. "You just keep your distance, asshat." 

Said angel reeled slightly, looking confused. "You're upset."

"Yeah. A little." He quipped." You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!"

"Maybe we let it happen. We didn't start anything." He informed with a smirk. "Right Sammy?" He winked towards the end. Belle scoffed from behind Jabrian's shoulder. "You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our faults and move on. 'Cause like it or not it's Apocalypse Now." He played with his hands. "And we're back on the same team again." 

"Is that so?" Belle snipped causing his gaze to fall on her.

"Yes, my dearest Ecclesia." 

Her lip curled slightly. "Don't call me that." 

His eye stayed on her and the angel guarding her, yet speaking to Dean. "You want to kill the devil. You want to kill the devil, we want you to kill the devil. It's," He paused his eyes flickering down Belle's form and licking his lips. "synergy."

"And I'm just supposed to trust you? Cram it with walnuts, ugly." Her father snapped.

"This isn't a game, son. Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast—before he finds his vessel." The angel informs them.

"His vessel? Lucifer needs a meat suit?" Sam snarked causing eyes to fall on him. 

Zachariah seemed fed up with idiotic questions for the time being. "He is an angel. Them's the rules, and when he touches down, we're talking Four Horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies the greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean, Belle, but you need our help." His eyes watched the two carefully.

"You listen to me, you two-faced douche, after what you did, I don't want jack squat from you!" He yelled. "And you stay away from my daughter." 

"You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?" He then takes notice of Dean's blood slicked hand. "You're bleeding." 

"Oh, yeah; a little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up." He then turned and slid the door showing an angel banishing symbol. Belle's hand flashed and grabbed Jabrian whilst Zachariah screamed. Three of four angels disappeared, Rian saved by her huntress' hold. "Learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch." He told the emptiness. 

"This sucks ass," Chuck told them from his corner. 

***

A few days later the hunters and token angel were holed up in a motel when a knock made itself present. Jabrian looked to Belle who didn't even glance up from her book when the angel asked what it was about Belle had mumbled out serial killers, FBI and BAU. Well, Jabrian mussed, this 'David Rossi' must be a good author. 

Dean clambered to his feet gun in hand while Sam was hot on his heels passing him as he peeks out only to see a harmless looking girl. Opening the door carefully to a seemingly hyperventilating person. 

"You okay, lady?" Sam asked carefully. 

She stared mouth agape while she breathed harshly. "Sam...is it really you?" She asked, voice cracking slightly. 

Her uncle spared a glance to the bewildered Dean and Belle but really wished he hadn't as mystery girl placed a hand on his chest. "And you're so firm." She giggled. 

"Uh, do I know you?" He asked, freaking out as she pulled away. 

She shook her head. "No. But I know you. You're Sam Winchester. And you're—" She risked a glance past Sam. "—not what I pictured, and OMG adorable! I'm Becky." She whisked past their barrier and stood in the room. "I read all about you guys. And I've even written a few." Becky glances down, giggling a little."Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were." 

"Chuck?" Dean asked while Becky itched toward his daughter. 

"He's got a message, but he's being watched. Angels. Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old." Her eyes watched Belle causing Jabrian to tense and sit protectively next to her. 

"Right. Just, um...what's the message?" Sam asked trying to defuse the angel before any smiting happened. 

"He had a vision. "The Michael sword is on earth. The angels lost it." Jabrian furrowed her eyebrows. 

"We did no such thing." She told the girl. 

"The Michael sword?" Dean asked.

"Becky, does he know where it is?"

She looked at them seriously. "In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs."

"Forty-two dogs?" Her father echoed, looking to Sam with a 'this bitch crazy' look. 

"Are...you sure you got that right?" 

She stepped towards Sam intensely. "It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said. I memorized every word." Her hand reached up and caressed Sam's chest, For you." She informed. 

"Um, Becky, c—uh, can you...quit touching me?" Sam tried. 

"No."

***

Belle walked with Jabrian under the wide sky, sighing happily to finally get a moment by herself. 

"You okay Bluebird?" The huntress hummed, her apple green eyes meeting beautiful cerulean orbs. 

She nodded slightly. "Yes. This is very stressful but I shall stay by your side." Came her firm reply. 

"Why?" Belle breathed in confusion getting an equally bewildered look. 

"Why what?" The angel probed. 

She was silent before giving in the temptations of that tantalizing question. 

"Why me? A broken Winchester. I'm not important, i'm a mistake." She whimpered, allowing just this once for herself to be vulnerable. 

When she wasn't answered she looked to see her angel furious, even more angry than when she ran off and almost died, even angrier than when she found that Castiel had lied to her, The fury brewed under her lids like a hurricane. The air crackle with tension as a caramel hand shot out and gripped Belle's chin. "Never dare call yourself unimportant." Her voice cracked with power as she kept the younger girls face angled to up to her. "You are important. Also, you are stupefying, your soul shines with the light of a thousand suns. When I first saw it, about to join the ranks of heaven I could not believe my father would create such a thing to let it lose itself. I know why i'm here. I was made for you Belle Winchester. Every particle gone in to creating me was mirrored in your existence. Nothing could make me leave because as long as you are alive, as long as you prevail, I will belong to you." 

Belle's words were caught in her throat, tears streaming down her cheeks. How was she supposed to respond to that? How could she confess that she felt as though they were magnets, drawn to each other, even against gravity. Finally able to speak again she looked up through her lashes, "Is it bad that I feel the same?" She whispered. 

Then it happened again, that force drawing them together, their faces drew near, lips centimeters apart when a ring broke the trance they were in, causing a groan to fall out of the huntress' lips."What?" She snapped answering the phone to hear her father on the other side. 

"Bobby's in the hospital." Came the gruff answer. 

Belle immediately panicked. "What do you mean?!"

"He was possessed but we found out where the Michael sword. Meet us at Castle Storage. 42 Rover Hill."

The information flitted through her brain at an inhuman pace, "Grandpop's old lock up?"

A laugh came from Dean, "Yeah, is lover girl with you?"

"Jabrian?"

"Who else?" Dean snarked. 

"Yeah, were on our way." 

Closing the phone she met the Angels gaze and flicked her head towards her bike. "Lets go."

***

The family stood at the door, arms ready as Dean unlocked and prepared to open the storage room. As the door swung open two bodies lay inside a devil's trap, blood pooling by their mouths. If possible Jabrian moved closer to Belle. Looking around the room, weapons drawn a familiar voice broke the silence. "I see you told the demons where the sword is." Turning on there heels they were once again met with Zachariah and his two stooges. 

"Oh, thank god. The angels are here." Dean stated sarcastically, causing Rian to look at him with an offended look. 

Steeping over the bodies the celestial gave them a fixated look. "And to think...they could have grabbed it any time they wanted." His hand waved as the door slammed shut. "It was right in front of them." 

Sam shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You've just hand-delivered it to us." Zach informed eyes trained on Dean. 

"We don't have anything." The green eyed man hissed. Jabrian rolled her eyes at them and stepped forward with Belle so they were no longer hidden in the shadows. Eyes narrowing when the opposed angel's face looked delighted to see the young girl and her supernatural companion. 

"It's you, chucklehead. You're the Michael sword." Dean stood dumbfounded at the revelation. "What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You're just a human, Dean. And not much of one."

Belle snarled at him, close to launching herself into battle but was calmed when a caramel hand was placed on her shoulder. Her father matched her with a look turning his head to the asshole excuse of a being in the room. "What do you mean, I'm the sword?"

"You're Michael's weapon. Or, rather, his...receptacle." Came the answer.

The words clicked in the man's head. "I'm a vessel?"

"You're the vessel. Michael's vessel." 

"How? Why—why me?" Dean stuttered.

Zachariah raised his voice to a gradual crescendo. "Because you're chosen! It's a great honor, Dean."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I think I'll pass, thanks." The apple eyed man informed him sarcastically. 

"Joking. Always joking. Well...no more jokes." He said more to himself, raising an finger gun at Sam. "Bang." 

Sam kneeled over in pain as a loud crunch wrang through the room. "God!"

"You son of a bitch!" Dean screamed at him. 

The elder looking angel stepped towards them like a scolding father. "Keep mouthing off, I'll break more than his legs. I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?"

Belle pipped up from her place for the first time. "How many humans die in the crossfire, huh? A million? Five, ten?" She yelled at him.

"Probably more. If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He'll roast the planet alive. Listen to reason dearest Ecclesia."

Dean spoke up again. "There's a reason you're telling me this instead of just nabbing me. You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin."

"Unfortunately, yes." He revealed. 

Jabrian glanced at her supposed superior, "Well, there's got to be another way." She stated. 

"There is no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written." He told them.

"Yeah, maybe. But, on the other hand... Eat me. The answer's no." Dean told him.

"Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby—we know he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no, he'll never walk again." He tried. 

Sam looks to Dean but Belle rolls her eyes. "You seem to forget we have another angel." In that moment Zach flicked his wrist and jabrian was pulled into an arm lock by the two stray angels.

"Then how about we heal you from...stage-four stomach cancer?" This was directed towards her father who soon doubled over in pain spitting out blood. 

"No," He he managed out. 

Obviously done with their bullshit he keeps pushing. "Then let's get really creative. Uh, let's see how...Sam does without his lungs. Are we having fun yet? You're going to say yes, Dean."

Belle begins to panic looking at her wounded family and trapped angel. "Stop!"

He smiled and laughed at her. "Dear, dear, Ecclesia, we have no choice. You'll understand soon enough, I mean you play a part to." His eyes flicker over her and Jabrian fight against her bonds harshly. His hands reach out as he steps closer, brushing her cheek."And what a part you play." His tounge flickered out to lick his lip with a smile. His pace turns to her Dad as he grips his chin angrily. 

"Just kill us," Dean interjected. 

He looked almost offended, "Kill you?" He lets go so the blonde man's head falls. "Oh, no. I'm just getting started."

Before he can finish his sentence an incandescent light fills the room. One of the angels that had held Jabrian collapsed, a bloody hole in his throat. Belle gasps as the presumably dead angel stand beside him. The other angel tries to fight Castiel but his younger sister intervenes fighting alongside him. They slam each other around violently, slashing with their blades as they tussled around. Suddenly the two rebels get the upper hand and Cas pushes him, pinning stabs the other angel in the back. The light once again fills the room and the members are left dumbfounded. 

"How are you..." Zachariah trails asking what they all were wondering. 

His gravelly tone rumbled out righteously. "Alive? That's a good question. How did these three end up on that airplane? Another good question. 'Cause the angels didn't do it. I think we both know the answer, don't we?"

"No. That's not possible." He denies looking down.

"It scares you. Well, it should. Now, put these boys back together and go. I won't ask twice."

With a whoosh of wings they are left in the darkened room the boys clutched on the ground whilst Jabrian looks over Belle for wounds. "You all need to be more careful." Castiel scolds. 

Dean didn't draw his eyes away as Cas stepped closer to them."Yeah, I'm starting to get that." He glances toward Sam. "Your frat brothers are bigger dicks than I thought."

"I don't mean the angels. Lucifer is circling his vessel. And once he takes it, those hex bags won't be enough to protect you." Cas pushes his hands to their chests and it obviously hurts because they gasp out in pain.

"What the hell was that?" Dean ground out, voice strained with ache. 

"An Enochian sigil. It'll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer." He informed glancing at Belle and slowly walking over to her. 

"What, did you just brand us with it?" Her father sassily asked. 

The angel paused before nonchalantly replying. "No. I carved it into your ribs."

As Cas tried to do the same to Belle, Jabrian stepped out in front of her. 

"Sister she is vulnerable." He informed her calculating her reaction. 

Rian narrowed her eyes in response. "She is not yours to claim Castiel, you're lucky Samuel does not yet have his protector. Try and your resurrection will have been for not." They share challenging glances as Sam tries to defuse the situations once again.

"Hey, Cas, were you really dead?" He asked. 

"Yes."

"Then how are you back?" Dean asked. Yet suddenly Castiel was gone, leaving them behind.

Jabrian turned towards Belle and watched her. "I need to ward you, is that alright?" The huntress sighed but nodded anyways. 

"Just don't carve it in my ribs if that's okay." A nod was her answer as a hand caressed her upper abdomen and a searing pain filled her body. Before Belle could thank her the angel tilted her head to the side. 

"I must go but if you need me, text me your coordinates. That is how I will find you." Then she whooshed away, leaving only the Winchesters. 

Belle picked her shirt up to see black ink ingrained in her skin. A permanent marker of the angel, her angel. Blocking out her family a small smile played on her lips, oh what a ride this will be. Unknowingly to her just a few months later she would be looking at that mark in a whole different way. 

"I am a canvas of my experiences, my story is etched in lines and shading, and you can read it on my arms, my legs, my shoulders, and my stomach." 

― Kat Von D


	16. Chapter 15 Interrogations

If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends."   
― Charlotte Brontë

Blurred words seemed to be the only thing that filled Reid's vision, aching with tiredness and a slight tint of coffee enveloped him. He sighed as his eyes flickered across articles and reports, anything that mentioned the youngest Winchester. 

The team had retreated to their hotel rooms long ago, the sun had slowly climbed to the sky, filling the office with its fiery glow. The building had begun to burst with life as returning police dripped in. 

Soon he heard his boss pass through to look at him with a slight tint of disappointment. "Did you sleep?" His supervisor questioned, dropping his case to a chair. "I told you to go back to the hotel." 

Reid shrugged indifferently. "It doesn't matter I wouldn't have slept anyways." Hotch wanted to continue but more co-workers filed into the room.

Crowding around the table they began to discuss the upcoming search for their unsub when chaos broke out in the bullpen. Screams for whoever just entered to show their hands and stand down. Like a bullet from its chamber, the Agents sprung to the door ripping it open to show him. It was the man that had kidnapped Belle. His face was pale and scared, sweat dripping from his appearance as he quivered and clung to his own arms as if they could quiet the orders. 

Hotch swung his hand in front of him, trying to calm the trembling unsub. "Hey, Mr..." The Agent blanked realizing they hadn't even known his real name. The dark coffee-colored eyes that once held malicious intent was wide with innocence. "Mr. Adramalech?" He tried. 

"That's not my name!" He screamed at Aaron violently. "It's not my name! Not mine!" He repeated hysterically. 

Trying to defuse their dangerously spiraling unsub, JJ stepped forward. "Okay okay." She soothed. "If that's not your name, what is?" The blonde tilted her head as she gave him a motherly smile. 

He watched her beaming to himself practically crazed. "James! It's James. My name is James Scott."

They stood for a second just watching to see what he'd do next yet that sickening smile falsely portraying a sense of purity. That was until Hotch decided to speak again. "Mr. Scott, do you know why you're here? "The elder agent took a few steps forward, uneasily. 

A vigorous nod answered them. "I'm here to report a crime, but people started yelling at me when I walked in!" he shouted, glaring at the police officers. Morgan toed his way closer as he signaled Hotch to keep talking. 

Taking the hint he begins again, pulling the attention back to him. "Mr. Scott, what crime do you wish to report?" He tried to use a genuine smile and keep his eyes from twitching to his teammate. 

"I was possessed! Or hypnotized! I don't know where I've been for months." He cried yanking at his hair. "All of it is gone, only glimpses. Ohh, of her! I don't know... I don't know who she is, but she's hurt!" He gasped not noticing Derek a few paces away. "Then there's that name, oh that's all the voices talked about." James kept shifting his feet and his movements begun to get more frantic. 

Aaron nodded along as if the unsub made sense. "What name?" He asked. 

"Um, um... Winchester! Dean Winchester." He smiled proudly just as Morgan got a hold of him, ignoring the thrashing and putting him in cuffs. "No please!" He screamed, his chest convulsing. "I don't need cuffs! I don't...I didn't do anything! I did nothing! I am the victim! Please, let me go. Go! Go! Go! Let me go!" His pleas grew as tears streaked down his face and he was pulled off into the direction of the holding cells to calm down. 

With wide eyes, the group retreated into the office waiting as Morgan joined them not two minutes later, once again they sat down and just talked. 

"What the hell was that?" Derek asked breathlessly, nods coming from different parts of the room.

Hotch shook his head slightly. "I don't know but we have to find out, call Garcia." 

Soon the bubbly blonde was smiling nervously on the screen as she scrolled through the information they needed on their unsub. 

"Whatcha' got baby girl?" Morgan asked as her eyebrows perked in interest. 

She hummed slightly fixating her eyes on the room before jumping into an explanation. "Nothing, he is completely normal. No psychotic breaks, picture-perfect childhood, good job, loving family, that from what I can see, is practically still in the honeymoon phase. Bills are paid..." With quirked lips and a scrunched nose, she stopped her listing. "I can't believe I'm saying this but other than the videos we have, nothing points to him even having contact with the Winchester family, like at all."

Confusion drenched the entire room as they got lost in the whirlwind of possibilities. A unanimous 'thanks Garcia' was shared throughout the room as their tech goddess signed off promising to keep digging. 

"So what are we supposed to do now?" Prentiss murmured in wonder. Flicking her deep coffee eyes to fixate upon her co-workers. "We have him in custody and enough evidence to put him behind bars for life." 

With a nod of agreement from Rossi, Spencer knocked down the idea. "Yet he had no emotional connections to the crime other than that, his lawyer will call for insanity. Did you see the way he acted." His curls bounced slightly as his head shook. "There is more going on here, we need to talk to him." 

JJ sighed staring at the younger man. "Yeah, but what do we ask? The only thing we have is the video of him and Belle, we have no motive, and he supposedly has no knowledge of these past months." 

"I'd suggest BPD but he has no record of traumatic abuse," Rossi informed them. 

Reid nodded along, "Maybe schizophrenia, he certainly has underlying symptoms. He said that he was possessed, delusions." His hand flickered through the air as if reading something. "that could also be a mixture of hallucinations. Paranoia, he seemed as if something was after him, he did say he was a victim. Then there are ideas of reference. It's common in schizophrenic patients to see things on tv and believe it pertains to them, he could have seen coverage of the Winchesters and felt as if it hurt him in some way. Also, the erratic speech we all saw how he was talking his patterns were off and he kept repeating keywords." With a nod of encouragement, he continued his ramble. "Obviously he would be having erratic behavior, maybe he's just experiencing a major and untreated case." He finished not meeting the sympathetic eyes of his fellow agents. 

"We need to interrogate him,

***

Next thing they knew the man was yanking on his cuffs, causing red to drip down his wrists. His frantic cries shook the agents watching from behind the glass. Aaron nodded to Reid as they grabbed Belle's file and walked into the darkened room. 

Silently they took a seat as James quieted, deep pools watching them, unblinkingly, unmoving, and unfeeling. Aaron paid no mind, slipping the photos of the scene to him, including the pictures of him torturing Belle. 

His deep authoritative tone rang, breaking the tension as James' eye welled with tears. "You did that James, you kidnapped and tortured a sixteen-year-old girl, for months."

The unsub shook his head frantically, beginning to shake as he stared at the pictures, his faces turning pale. "No, no, no, I didn't. I wanted to help her! I promise that's why I came. To help her." He looked up ginning sweetly, snot mixing with saline at the creases of his smile. "What's her name?" His eyes went to Hotch but turned to Reid. "Her name what, what is it?"

Reid looked down before furrowing his eyebrows, "You told us her name, before..." he tries, puppy dog eyes boring as if that'll cause his memory to jog. 

"No, I don't, I don't remember it, please, oh please won't you tell me?" Hands were once again stopped by gore-stained steel. 

The agents share a glance. "Belle, it's Belle Winchester, now in the video, you told us you were looking for her father-" Aaron informed before James got excited, tugging again. 

"Dean!" He cried out, more wild nodding, "Yes, I know him! The voices, they said his name! I promise, they did! They wanted to meet him I think. They were angry, furious at him and," There was a heavy pause, his breath deep and gasping before he whispered, "Ecclesia."

"Ecclesia?" Reid echoed. 

Hotch ignored that part eyes turning to the lean man in front of them. "Dean Winchester is dead." He stated bluntly. 

To everyone's surprise, James started laughing, high pitched genuine, belly guffaws. "No!" He gasped between fits, "He is very much alive!"

Reid tilted his head, "What do you mean?" 

James stopped laughing, his gaze turning confused, mirth draining from them. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" Aaron questioned. 

The man looked like he was talking to children, "Dean is not dead. He was, but he came back, the voices talked about it, I remember Belle," He giggled her name, wistfully, "She told me he wasn't coming to get her, not because he wasn't dead, but because he left her, duh!" 

"I thought you didn't recognize your time with Belle," Reid stated. 

James scoffed, "When I got glimpses of everything when I would come back, she'd talk to me. She was so nice, that's why I needed to tell you guys. You need to save her!" 

"We did save her," Spencer hummed politely. 

The unsubs smile was genuine as he sighed in relief, the rigid pulling of his cuffs stopped, his entire body slumping in happiness. "Can I see her? She was so nice, I wanna... wanna tell her I'm sorry, for leaving her there." 

"We'll see, Mr. Scott. For now, get some rest." Hotch stated as they rose to their feet and slunk from the room to meet their co-workers. 

What met them were confused gazes, Morgan sighing. "Now what? What do we do?" His brows shot up excessively. 

Aaron sighed, "We talk to Belle, about the night her father died, if there is a way he survived, that could be the piece we're missing, because we're missing something."

"Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence– whether much that is glorious– whether all that is profound– does not spring from disease of thought– from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect."   
― Edgar Allan Poe


End file.
